Phoenix Rising
by SandraDeee
Summary: With every question Audrey Parker answers, two more emerge.  And unlocking her history—the past that she'd spent years convincing herself didn't matter—could be the difference between life and death for the inhabitants of Haven.
1. Kissing Booths and Other Oddities

**Author's Note**: This story is set after the events of episode 01x12 and may include spoilers for the first twelve episodes. It is AU after that.

Although this is not my first fanfic, this is my first attempt at a _Haven_ fic. Feedback is cherished. :)

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Part One: "Kissing Booths, Ferris Wheels, and Other Oddities"**

In her twenty-seven years, Audrey Parker had learned a number of life truths, not that those truths seemed in any way comparable to the abundance of questions she had yet to answer.

However, as she stood behind a kissing booth at the Haven Fall Fun Fest and watched the locals and tourists mingling amid the flurry of activities, three truths seemed applicable. First, it was more sanitary to kiss a person's feet than to kiss on the mouth. Granted not as fun. Second, no good deed goes unpunished. Considering her current predicament—manning the kissing booth—that little fact was obvious. And third, Haven, Maine, got stranger by the minute.

She was at the carnival alone. Okay, so she _technically_ wasn't alone considering that most of the townspeople and plenty of tourists were on-hand. Rather, she was there without backup. She had hoped Nathan Wuornos would come with her. Her partner was so good at smoothing things over for her when she pushed someone too hard, but before she had left the police precinct earlier in the day, he had looked at her with a lopsided half-smile and claimed to have too much paperwork.

At the moment, paperwork would have seemed like a reprieve.

Audrey was not convinced of the appeal of milling around people wearing fanny-packs, but if she was to be part of the town and find some ever-elusive answers, she couldn't hole herself away from everyone. Though after encountering the group of teenage boys she'd sent away from the booth, she was wishing she could.

Still, it was nice to be out in the fresh air. It made her feel more _alive_ somehow.

Gulls circled overhead, their cries periodically piercing the sounds of the crowd. The scent of the salty ocean was still discernible despite the myriad of other scents that wafted through the air. Apples and cinnamon. All things fried. Lobster pups. The day definitely had the feel of fall.

On that crisp late-September day, the sunlight shone in an almost blinding angle, causing her to shade her eyes with a hand to the forehead. But Audrey saw her. A figure that looked all at once familiar and alien. The sounds of the crowd—the laughter of children, the cacophony of voices, the patter of footsteps on the pavement of Main Street—faded in her ears, replaced by a thump and a whoosh. Her heartbeat. Pounding.

"Lucy?" she choked out. She blinked back tears that sprang to her eyes without warning.

And just as quickly as she caught sight of Lucy, a cloud obscured the sun's harsh beams, affording Audrey a better view of the woman. _She was not Lucy Ripley._

"You're seeing things," she uttered. Upon recognizing the sound of her own voice, she added, "And talking to yourself. Not a good sign, Parker."

Still her eyes fell on the woman she'd momentarily mistaken for Lucy.

Audrey did not know the woman, but she knew about her. True, it was nothing definitive. More the impressions yielded from watching the blond woman kneel next to her tow-haired daughter, a virtual replica of the mother right down to the matching sweaters they wore, and tie the young girl's shoe. The woman tweaked the little girl's nose, eliciting a giggle from the child, before the two continued toward a fun house filled with brightly colored balls.

The little girl would never have to wonder…or search…or hope for answers that were perfectly content to remain uncovered. No, Audrey did not know the woman, but she knew the woman cared for her child.

Had anyone ever cared for her that way? Not that Audrey could remember. But even the memories she did have, she was starting to doubt. She had always been so sure of who she was before she came to this place, but the more she discovered, the more she became acutely aware that she knew nothing. And her family history—the past that she'd spent years convincing herself didn't matter—consumed her. It was almost all she could think about.

Especially now.

In the few months she'd been in Haven, Maine, she had seen her share of oddities and dealt with what would once have registered as the impossible. And yet none of those had her reeling as much as the two-inch scar concealed behind thick wool socks, boots, and a multitude of unanswered questions.

Was she the woman? Or was she the child?

"You've been holding out on me." Duke Crocker's voice shook Audrey from her reverie.

She cleared her throat before turning her attention to the newcomer at the kissing booth. "Come again?"

With a swagger that reminded her of old-Hollywood era swashbucklers, Duke moved closer to the booth behind which she stood and rested his elbows on the tabletop opposite Audrey. "You've been holding out on me about who you really are."

Her brows furrowed as she tried to process his words. _Does he know? How _could_ he know? _ She didn't even know what to think about what the scar could mean. It was all impossible. Of course, in Haven, the impossible…

"What are you talking about?"

Duke drew in a breath, whistling as he did. "A kissing booth? I never really pictured you as the type."

The thudding in her chest began to subside as she recovered her wits. Duke had no idea what had been running through her mind, thankfully, but if nothing else, he was a welcome distraction. "What? The type of girl you'd kiss?"

He smiled broadly. "I think we both know better than that. I was thinking more the giggly, jiggly type. You know, the type who operates a kissing booth. What's the going rate these days?"

"More than you can afford," Audrey's right eyebrow shot up.

A challenge.

She could read his expression, see the mirth in his dark eyes, though, as always, he played it cool. This was their game, and he enjoyed it. So did she. He chased her; she eluded him. There was a time or two she'd thought about calling his bluff to see what he'd do if she let him catch her, but other than some momentary pleasure, she couldn't imagine what either of them would gain. He would still be Duke—smooth, charmingly shady, and always on the cusp of committing a felony. And she would still be Audrey—curious about things Duke could never share with her, practical, and married to her job.

Duke gestured in the direction of the prices, which were affixed to the 2x4 constructed frame of the booth. "The sign says $1.00." She frowned at him. "What? Shocked that I can read?"

"Then you can read the other sign, too." Audrey pointed to the handwritten CLOSED sign. "I'm just watching the till until Jennifer Sims gets back. You don't think I'm going to let you or anyone else distract me, do you?"

"You think I'd go for the money?"

"I didn't say that," she hedged.

"'Cause, you know, I should be _very_ offended by that. And you really should offer to make it up to me."

"You'll get over it."

"Aren't you the least bit curious what it would be like?"

She looked him square in the eyes. "I _have _been kissed before."

His brows furrowed. "By someone who actually knows how?"

She brushed off his question. "A kiss is a kiss."

"That's where you're wrong. And for you to say that, he must've been a bad kisser." Audrey shot him a look of exasperation, but Duke continued, "For the sake of argument, since you do like to make things difficult, let's suppose that a kiss is just a kiss. You shouldn't have any problem raising money for charity and puckering up. What's the worst that can happen? You might enjoy yourself?"

His challenge hung in the air.

"Thanks, Agent Parker." Jennifer Sims's approach diffused the tension.

"Officer Parker," Audrey corrected, reminding the other woman and herself, to a smaller extent, that her tenure with the FBI had ended. "Or just Audrey."

"Thanks, Audrey." Jennifer flashed her a smile and waited for Audrey to remove herself from the booth.

Audrey stepped down, and looked to Duke to continue their tête-à-tête, but she was not entirely stunned to see that his tall frame remained at the kissing booth.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Duke," Jennifer began, and Audrey thought she detected a sultriness in the brunette's voice that had not been present a moment earlier. Jennifer removed the CLOSED sign, took the money Duke held in his hand, and leaned forward in the booth.

Audrey walked on, not particularly caring to gawk at the occupants of the kissing booth. "And there it is, boys and girls," she murmured to herself.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, not sure if she was looking for trouble or for familiar faces. She recognized several people, though they mostly exchanged nods or smiles with her rather than engaging her in conversation. Audrey didn't find small talk to be particularly easy, so she wasn't disappointed, per se, but she was reminded of hard truths. She was an outsider. An outsider with an insider's connection. Though what exactly that connection was…she wished she knew. She thought she did, but now…

_When you've eliminated the possibilities, you have to start looking at the impossible._

She was living in a town where music could drive people mad, where a man's shadow could exact revenge, where a woman could control the weather through her emotions. Was it so impossible to believe that she, somehow or in some way, was Lucy Ripley?

And yet as soon as the thought entered her mind, she drove it out for the umpteenth time.

No, there had to be a logical explanation.

There had to be.

Even if there had been no rhyme or reason for much that she'd seen since arriving a few months ago, there had to be for this.

Hearing long strides behind her, she turned and found Duke falling into step with her. "Where are you going?"

Good question. Where _was _she going?

Maybe if she went back to the site where the Colorado Kid's body was discovered she would notice something new.

Maybe if she searched the archives at the police precinct she'd find those misplaced files.

Or maybe if she went back through Dr. Carr's records that Julia had offered up to her she would stumble upon a veritable Rosetta Stone that would unlock all the secrets of her past. Yeah right.

She didn't know. Not really. All she knew was that whatever was going on was really sucky and couldn't be fixed by her old standby: double-frosted cupcakes.

"Home, I think," she replied.

Duke's easy smile dropped. "Seriously? Just like that?"

"Seriously. Just like that." She shoved her hands in her pockets, but Duke looped his arms through hers. Audrey was surprised by the contact but did not pull away. They continued to walk down Main Street.

"Are you upset about the kiss?" he teased.

"Hardly. Besides, why should I be upset when you have to pay a woman to kiss you?"

"Jennifer was very satisfied. In fact, she gave me a refund."

Despite the heaviness she'd been feeling, Audrey nearly snorted.

"Have you even been around the whole festival?" Duke took her silence as an answer. "You should. You never know what what's going to happen."

"Somehow, I think I can do without excitement," Audrey replied.

"That doesn't sound like you."

She extricated herself from him and crossed her arms. "How would you know?"

"You live for excitement. Otherwise, why hang around me?"

"You're pretty sure of yourself."

"Yeah. And you like that. _You_ like _me._"

The two continued to weave through the crowd. Her eyes fell upon different game booths. "This is a racket."

"They all go into it with their eyes open," Duke commented.

"Do they?"

"If they don't, they learn soon enough." He continued. "That's what I like about you. Always trying to save the world."

Audrey wasn't convinced it was a compliment. Not so long ago, Duke had been urging her not to take on the world. Of course, that had been the night she'd stood him up while she and Nathan investigated the mysterious deaths of two relatively young men whose accelerated aging left everyone baffled. "Saving the world from one succubus at a time," she muttered.

Duke himself had fallen victim to the woman responsible, and Audrey remembered watching his youth and energy drain from him before she and Nathan realized that Duke's proximity to the child conceived through that encounter was what caused his rapid aging. Audrey had never seen anything like it. She'd also never seen a grown man fuss over an infant the way Nathan had. At the time, she had played it off like she thought Nathan had turned into a pod person, but the truth was, it was endearing to see him smile and just let down his guard as he held the baby.

"What?"

"Nothing. It was a bad, bad joke." She looked ahead, scanning the crowd.

_Nathan_.

Relief washed over Audrey when she saw him. Funny. She hadn't even realized she had felt so apprehensive. In general, she wasn't one to analyze relationships. Quite frankly, it had never been much of an issue because her entire adult life had been wrapped around whatever was the case-of-the-moment. However, she was mildly taken aback by her own quiet reaction to her friend. "There's Nathan."

Duke groaned. "Did you feel that?"

"What?"

"All the fun suddenly got sucked out of the air."

"Behave," Audrey poked Duke in the arm.

"Impossible. Just look at him. If he scowled any harder, he'd send all the small children into hysterics."

"Right. And you'd steal their candy."

"Are you trying to hurt my feelings? I'm a businessman, not a thief," Duke defended.

Audrey sighed. "I really don't understand the two of you. Last time I saw you, you were playing cards and getting along."

"You were watching us?"

"I wasn't watching you. I just…noticed." Her eyes cut to Nathan Wuornos, whose pale blue eyes, in turn, were fixed on Duke and her.

"There's no avoiding him now," Duke murmured in her ear.

"Who says I'd want to avoid him?" Audrey replied as she and Duke bridged the distance between themselves and Nathan.

"Nathan," Duke greeted.

"Duke." Nathan's gaze was steely.

"You look like you're having as much fun as a man going in for an enema."

Nathan's expression did not change upon hearing Duke's insult. "Amazing. What was that? 3.2 seconds?"

Duke shrugged. "I was thinking closer to three."

"I thought you were catching up on paperwork," Audrey interjected.

"Finished," Nathan replied simply, though remembering her annoyance with him over his sparseness for details, he added, "The chief thought it would be a good idea to have another man on the scene. Just in case."

"Always looking for trouble, Nathan," Duke commented.

"When you're around, I don't have to look too hard to find it."

"In our quiet hamlet? Would never happen," Duke assured him wryly.

Audrey's eyes skimmed the crowd. "This is all really disturbing. Jugglers. Face paint. Seriously, how is that a good idea? And balloon animals…"

"What's wrong with balloon animals?" Nathan asked.

"Maybe I'm just waiting for them to come to life," Audrey admitted.

"Then it would truly be a fun fest. For you, anyway." The corners of Nathan's mouth twitched in an expression that came dangerously close to a smile.

"Evidently, I like weirdness," Audrey said with a sigh.

"That explains so much," Duke smirked, gesturing toward Nathan.

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets. "Haven't exactly figured out where slimy fits in there…"

"On that note, I have an appointment I must keep." He looked to Audrey. "If you're free later, you should stop by the Gull." He held up a handful of dollar bills. "We can further discuss that business venture," he added with a wink before heading on his way.

"Don't wait up." Audrey shook her head in disbelief, but try as she might to deny it, Duke was nothing if not amusing.

Once the other man was out of earshot, Nathan turned to Audrey. "A business venture with Duke?"

"More like a proposition." She paused, realizing how it sounded. "You don't have to say it..."

"Wasn't going to," Nathan replied.

"So have you been to many of these…um…fun fests?"

"Every year."

"Strange."

"What? I like…fun."

"Right."

"I have fun," Nathan insisted.

"Of course. How silly of me. Nathan Wuornos and fun are synonymous with each other. I mean, there's golf."

"Golf is fun. And so are the games here."

"They're hokey. And rigged."

"But not impossible. Maybe it's in our nature to like a challenge."

"Not when it's unfair."

"Who says life is fair?" The tenor of their conversation was playful, despite their disagreement.

"Certainly not me. So you've played these games?"

"Hell no. They're rigged."

She shook her head, smiling. "Then what's so great about this? I mean, a booth where you kiss strangers. Throwing balls at weighted bottles. Clowns walking around on stilts. Do you realize how easy it would be to just stick out my foot…"

"The rides," he supplied. "The fun fest is all about the rides."

"The rides?" she repeated.

"And the funnel cakes."

"Next thing I know, you'll be telling me they're as good as pancakes."

"Next best thing. Come on." He tilted his head in a gesture indicating she should follow.

"Where are we going? For the rides or the funnel cakes?"

"Both," Nathan replied. "But the number one rule of any fun fest: rides before food."

Audrey could look up and see their intended destination in the distance: a Ferris wheel. "You can't be serious."

"Completely."

"It's a Ferris wheel. You like golf and Ferris wheels?" she asked incredulously.

"An odd combination," he conceded.

"You think?"

As the two came closer to the Ferris wheel, they found the line, which had been partitioned by yellow ropes. "The line's long," she commented. "Maybe we should go for the funnel cakes instead."

"Parker, are you scared?" Amusement shone in his eyes.

"After everything I've seen? Don't be ridiculous. I was just concerned that if something happens, we'll be out-of-pocket. Way up there. Fifty feet up. Suspended."

"Can always climb down," he replied dryly.

"All right, Wuornos. I _am_ a little nervous about this."

"Scared."

The line shifted forward, and Audrey reluctantly moved with it. "Not scared. Nervous."

"What the hell for?"

"Not a fan of heights. Chalk it up to a bad experience."

"What happened?" he asked.

"I was good on the balance beam we had on the playground at school when I was a kid. Fourth grade. Stephanie Mittermeier, total she-devil that she was, dared me to walk the top of the swing set."

"Can see where this is going."

"Yeah, I almost got across the top, but I lost my footing and fell. Broke my wrist, which by the way, really, really sucks."

"I won't let anything bad happen to you." His earnest words hung in the air, and Audrey watched, as he seemed to realize what he'd said and how it sounded almost intimate. "On the Ferris wheel," he amended.

Audrey said nothing but nodded, and soon the two found themselves situated on one of the bench seats of the Ferris wheel being fastened in. They sat arm-to-arm, leg-to-leg, and much closer than they normally positioned themselves as partners and friends. Nathan was a furnace, she decided as they were slowly lifted into the air. Considering the autumn chill that was forming as the day progressed, his warmth was welcoming.

High above the ground, Audrey could see the ocean in the distance, the sunlight shimmering off it, as well as the green and gray of the shoreline. So often she didn't even notice it anymore because she was always doggedly focused on her work. "It's beautiful up here."

Nathan looked at her. "It is."

And then it hit Audrey. She wasn't afraid.

The bench dipped as it began its quick descent. A giggle escaped from her throat as her stomach did a flip-flop. Without thought, she reached out and grasped his leg. "Did you feel that?" she asked in delight. She quickly realized how she sounded. "God, Nathan, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Actually, I did feel it," he replied with a slight smile.

For a moment, Audrey looked at him in stunned silence. She wasn't sure whether he was being sarcastic or sincere, but she had the feeling that there was more going on than she perceived. Realizing her hand was on his leg, she pulled away. "Sorry."

"The adrenaline," he explained. "I can feel the adrenaline. Happens when I'm on a rollercoaster, or a Ferris wheel, or sledding down a slope…"

"Or in danger," Audrey uttered, shifting slightly in her seat.

"Yeah."

"Is that why you became a cop?"

"Nah. Did it to piss off my old man. The adrenaline—that's just a nice side effect."

They were rising again, nearly to the apex. Then the bench began its descent again, and Audrey felt her stomach drop, though this time she was more prepared for the sensation.

"Have you been okay?" he asked. "You've been quiet—for you—the last few days."

"Pot, meet kettle." Audrey's teeth grazed her bottom lip. Sooner or later she was going to have to tell him what was going on. If anyone could help her sort through it, Nathan could. Of course, as soon as she said something about the scar, about her suspicions, that would make it all too real. Wanting to hold on to a few more moments of normalcy, she deflected. "So what exactly are funnel cakes?"

* * *

Lady Cassandra was a fraud.

First off, she was anything but a lady. Years of living on her own and having to fend for herself in any way possible saw to that inevitability.

Secondly, her name wasn't really Cassandra. It was Nancy. But what kind of name was Nancy for a fortune teller? She would have felt ridiculous calling out to the crowds of foolish tourists, "Come, let Lady Nancy tell your fortune." No, Cassandra was much more exotic. Besides which, one of the few things she remembered from her schooling was that Cassandra, in Greek mythology, was a mortal woman who possessed the ability to tell the future.

Not that Lady Cassandra had any such delusions of grandeur. Only once had she felt anything akin to actual psychic prescience. That had been over a quarter century ago.

Like any other performer, the services she provided on the carnival trail were those of smoke and mirrors. She was, however, a keen judge of character. Through the years, she cultivated the ability to study a person for about thirty seconds and fake her way through any palm reading, spirit channeling, or fortune telling. It always amazed her what people advertised without even realizing they were advertising. Body language, accent, clothing, facial expressions, hair style, jewelry—all said a great deal about a person. She used her powers of observation to compensate for what she lacked in actual psychic gifts.

She never thought she'd live out her life as a carnie. Strange what lust could make a person do. She'd been seventeen years old when she had joined up, all for the love of Eddie Mansel. Eddie was long gone, but she continued on the circuit, moving from one town to the next.

In most cases, one town was just like another. This place, for some reason, always made her feel apprehensive. What year was it…1982? 1983?...when she thought she'd spotted a man walking on water? And it turned out that was the most normal thing she saw the whole long weekend. That woman—what was her name? Lindsey? Lucy? That was it. Lucy. Now _she _had been impressive. When Lucy…

Lady Cassandra pushed aside the thoughts. She had been back to Haven many times since, and everything had been fine. What she really needed to be doing was drumming up business rather than reflecting on what could be written off as a really bad mushroom trip.

She stood, stretched, and walked out of her tent. "Come one! Come all! Let Lady Cassandra tell your fortune."

Some of the people pulled their children close to them when they passed her. Very rude. Others laughed and offered a "Maybe later" to her.

"Come one! Come all—," Cassandra's call cut off abruptly when in the distance she saw a couple walking down the street in her direction. There was something familiar about the young woman. How did she know her?

The blond-haired young woman walked next to a tall, dark haired man, far enough away that she knew they were not lovers. _Yet anyway, _Cassandra added mentally. But there was another type of closeness between them. The man reached over toward the paper plate the woman held and pulled off a piece of what looked like funnel cake. Yes, that was it. Cassandra would recognize that carnival staple anywhere. The woman laughed and pushed the entire plate toward the man.

And then it hit Cassandra. For the second time in her life, images flashed before her eyes. Snapshots of what had been and what would be.

Not again. Not again!

She cried out, her legs giving way as the paved street came closer to her. She gasped at the crushing weight on her chest.

And suddenly Cassandra found she was not alone as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Are you okay?" The blond-haired young woman was kneeling next to her.

"I'll call am ambulance," the young man said.

"No," Cassandra replied, her voice raspy. "No ambulances." She grabbed the other woman's arm, steadying herself. Seeking the blond woman's eyes, Cassandra could see the concern there. And more.

How had she not seen it immediately? But…but she didn't look a day older than the last time she saw her! "Lucy, I-I can't believe it's you."

_To Be Continued…._


	2. Always a Price to Pay

**Author's Notes**: This story is set after the events of episode 01x12 and may include spoilers for the first twelve episodes. It is AU after that.

Thank you so much for all the feedback I received on the first chapter. Words cannot even express how much it meant to me. As always, feedback is cherished.

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Part Two: "Always a Price to Pay"**

"Everyone seems to be behaving," Audrey commented to Nathan as they walked down Main Street. They had just left the Ferris wheel at the Haven Fall Fun Fest and were on their way to a refreshment stand for a funnel cake, which according to Nathan was nearly as tasty as pancakes. High praise, indeed.

"You sound almost disappointed," Nathan remarked, looking sideways at his partner.

"Not disappointed. Maybe a little surprised. It is Haven, after all, but I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth." They stopped outside a food booth, and she spoke to the vendor. "A funnel cake, please."

She started to pull money from her pocket, but Nathan already had his wallet out handing over the bills. "I've got this."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah. Gives me an excuse to beg some off of you."

"Thanks, Wuornos."

"I still can't believe you've never had a funnel cake." Nathan shook his head in disbelief.

"The sisters at St. Mary's were big believers in the FDA food pyramid." The vendor handed Audrey a large paper plate with a mass of overlapping fried dough. "No room for gluttony."

Nathan grabbed a nearby shaker and began to shake a generous portion of confectioner's sugar on top. "There is now."

"This was definitely not part of the food pyramid. Smells good." She could feel the heat through the thin plate. "Better wait a minute before trying it," she warned him. "It's pretty hot."

When Nathan had first regained his affliction, he carried a small thermometer with him to measure temperatures. He had since adapted himself in other ways. His television stayed on the Weather Channel, which helped him to dress appropriately to fit in with those around him. Just in case, he kept spare clothes in his Bronco. He had also grown accustomed to waiting a few minutes before eating food fresh from the oven or skillet. Common sense. Of course, since he had met Audrey, she automatically acted as his personal thermometer. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he had it under control.

Then again, there were other things he wasn't telling her, either, things he didn't fully have under control. When they were on the Ferris wheel, so close on the bench, he thought he would come undone. Every stray touch from her, whether it was her arm or thigh brushing against him, felt heightened. It was as though tendrils of delight spread outward from her contact. He wasn't sure why. Was it because he had gone so long without feeling that her touch was that much more potent?

Or was it just Audrey?

He had no way of knowing for sure, considering he couldn't feel his own skin or anything but her. What he did know was she nearly keeled him over without realizing it when she grabbed hold of his leg on that first descent. If he concentrated, he could still feel her. Her hand was small but strong, her touch sure but innocent. In that moment, he had wanted to tell her the truth. Yes, the Ferris wheel gave him a small adrenaline rush, but Audrey gave him so much more.

And it wasn't fair to her.

She was his friend, not his keeper. She had her own mysteries to unravel without him adding to her problems.

"So what's the best way to eat this?" she asked, her question interrupting his thoughts.

"Open your mouth. Put some inside. Chew. Swallow." He couldn't resist.

"Smart ass."

"Better to be a smart ass than a dumb ass," Nathan replied.

"Fork?" Audrey asked.

"Fingers."

Audrey balanced the plate in one hand and tore off a piece of the funnel cake with her other hand. "Here goes."

Nathan watched as her eyes widened with pleasure.

"That's good," she commented as powdered sugar clung to her fingers. She licked them clean. "And greasy. There's always a price to pay. I guess mine will be an extra mile. Try some."

It didn't take too much coaxing for Nathan to accept the offer. He pulled off a hunk of the fried pastry and bit into it. "Just like I remember."

"You planning on wearing that powdered sugar for the rest of the day?" Audrey asked with a grin as she pointed to her lips as a way to indicate the sugar on his lips.

"Saving it for later." Nevertheless, he wiped it away with a paper napkin he pulled from a dispenser near the funnel cake booth. "Glad you decided to come." And he was, but it was hard to say aloud. Whatever she'd been dealing with the last few days had her down. He couldn't force her to tell him. Wouldn't make him much of a friend if he badgered her. Only thing he could do was let her know that when she was ready to talk, he was ready to listen.

"Same goes for you. I couldn't believe you were going to abandon me for _paperwork_ of all things."

"Taking one for the team," Nathan replied.

"You know that saying that no good deed goes unpunished?"

"Story of my life," Nathan replied taking another small piece of the funnel cake.

"Mine too. Jennifer Sims roped me into watching the kissing booth for her."

Nathan stared straight ahead. "So how was that?"

"Haven's got some randy teens," Audrey replied grimacing. The two continued to walk along the paved street.

"And not a one looks like a teenager vampire," he teased.

"Funny man today, aren't you?"

"Comes and goes." His voice was nonchalant, but inwardly he was anything but. "And Duke?"

"Let's just say it was a good thing Jennifer Sims got back when she did," Audrey replied tearing a piece of the funnel cake off the plate.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "For Duke or for you?"

"To hear Duke tell it, it was a good thing for Jennifer Sims." Audrey wrinkled her nose. Nathan reached over for another chunk of the funnel cake. With a quiet laugh, she passed the entire plate over to him. "Here. I'm going to have to run this off as it is."

"And all those cupcakes?" he asked taking the last piece of the funnel cake.

"It's going to be a long run."

A murmur in the crowd caught Nathan's attention. "You hear it?" he asked dropping the plate in a fortuitously placed trash receptacle.

"I do."

A cry pierced the air. A woman in flowing, brightly colored robes collapsed on the street. The two partners raced to her side.

"Are you okay?" Audrey asked kneeling next to her.

"I'll call an ambulance," Nathan stated pulling out his cell phone.

The woman seemed disoriented at first, but she fixed her gaze on Audrey. "No, no ambulance." Nathan watched as the woman's expression changed from one of confusion to understanding. "Lucy, I-I can't believe it's you."

A small crowd of on-lookers gathered round. Nathan motioned for them to back up.

"I-I'm not Lucy," Audrey said, though Nathan noticed the catch in her voice. Audrey reached out and pressed her fingers against the woman's wrist, checking her pulse. "Pulse is elevated," she said to Nathan. "Ma'am, you should let my partner call an ambulance for you."

"Your pulse would be elevated, too, if you saw…" The woman in flowing robes took a deep breath. "Really, I'm fine. See? My breathing's getting back to normal."

"Can you sit up?" Nathan asked.

"Yes," the woman replied. She still had not let go of Audrey.

Nathan noticed her tilt her head, scrutinizing Audrey. The woman, who bore a passing resemblance to Camryn Manheim, marveled, "You are identical to her. Really, it's uncanny."

"How did you know Lucy?"

Nathan could hear the hope rising in Audrey's voice, but he couldn't shake the notion that something was wrong.

The woman nodded. "Help me to my tent? We can talk in private there."

* * *

The tent was furnished the way one might expect a fortune teller's tent to be furnished, complete with every stereotype imaginable. Richly colored draperies hung, along with beads, giving the appearance of sumptuousness. A round table was situated in the middle of the space, covered by a tasseled burgundy tablecloth and a crystal ball. Padded chairs formed a circle around the table. The remnants of burned incense clung to the fabric and air, making the atmosphere seem heavy.

As Nathan and Audrey followed the fortune teller further into her tent, they watched as she seemed to regain her strength. Her breathing passed for normal.

Smoothing her long hair, the woman asked, "Would you care for some tea? It's soothing for the nerves."

"No, thank you," Audrey answered.

Nathan was in no mood for pleasantries. "Who are you?"

If the fortune teller was taken aback by his brusque manner, she did not show it. "I am Lady Cassandra. And you—you are a man of authority. You ask questions and expect answers. Yet you prefer easy answers. A policeman, yes?"

"No mystery when I'm wearing a badge."

Audrey looked at Nathan and recognized that familiar set of his jaw. Something was setting off his radar, and she had to think there was a reason. But she also hoped he didn't piss the woman off so much that she decided that talking wasn't worth her time. She and Nathan could sift through the story later—whether it consisted of truth or lies—but for now, she was so eager to hear what Lady Cassandra would say, her eagerness was palpable.

"You don't trust easily," Lady Cassandra announced as she looked at Nathan and tracked her gaze to Audrey, "but you do trust _her_. Lucy's…daughter?" The way she said _daughter _indicated no great belief in the familial connection.

"I don't know if I am," Audrey answered honestly. "How did you know Lucy?"

But Lady Cassandra seemed not to hear Audrey's question, or if she did, she simply chose to ignore it for the time being.

Nathan scowled, particularly as he saw something he had only caught rare glimpses of in the past: genuine vulnerability on Parker's face. Whatever this Lady Cassandra was up to, Nathan would be damned if he let it hurt Audrey.

The woman walked slowly around Audrey, appraising her. "Yes, you are of Lucy, but I do not think you are her daughter."

Audrey's head felt like it was spinning. The woman spoke but said little. And yet what she did say only led to more questions. For the sake of argument, if she wasn't Lucy's daughter, which there was no way of proving one way or the other anyway, what did that make her? For that matter, how could she be Lucy, scar or no scar, when she had a lifetime of memories? And what did Lady Cassandra mean by 'of Lucy'? "How did you know Lucy?" Audrey's question came out more forcefully.

Lady Cassandra sank on one of the plush chairs, reached under the table, and pulled out a flask of liquor. Uncapping the top, she took a swig from it before patting the chair next to her. Audrey looked back at Nathan before sliding into the seat. Nathan stood with his arms crossed, his body tense.

"I've been traveling a lot of years. Been to a lot of places. More places than I can remember the names of. But this place—Haven—I've always remembered."

"Why?" Audrey uttered.

"Surely you know why. Haven isn't like other places. It doesn't take clairvoyance to see that." Lady Cassandra ran her fingers along the smooth flask. "It must've been 1983… 1984… when I was here the first time. It was a fall festival, just like this one. But it wasn't like this one. Things were strange."

Audrey and Nathan's eyes locked, each on the same wavelength. _The Troubles_.

Lady Cassandra continued, "Look, I've seen it all. I'm no angel. I've done a lot myself. But this was _differen_t. One of the trapeze artists—that was back when we traveled with trapeze artists before insurance costs skyrocketed—he slipped. His safety line broke, and he was falling. Before he hit the ground, though, he stopped, suspended in the air. He just hung there. The crowd thought it was part of the show, but I knew better. The cheering, the clapping, it was deafening. Everyone thought they'd been treated to an optical illusion, but there was a woman who didn't react like the others. She knew what had just happened.

"I sought her out. She seemed so sad, as though she carried the world on her shoulders. She was a stranger, but I felt compelled to reach out to her. And when I did, I saw things, things from my past. Things from my future even. In return, there were things I instinctively knew about her. Her name. That she was scared she wouldn't be able to stop the…," she searched for the right word, "…problems? Troubles."

A lump formed in Audrey's throat.

"A man came for her. Pulled her away from me. She looked back, and I could see she was exhausted."

"Who was he?" Nathan asked.

"I don't know. I didn't see her again that day, but there was some other strangeness."

"Like what?" Audrey asked.

"Masks melded to the wearers' faces." Lady Cassandra shuddered. "I wasn't able to sleep that night. I rose early and went for a walk through the town. The air was unseasonably warm that morning. Sticky, almost. And there was a woman running frantically down the middle of the street, screaming out that her little boy was dead. I was afraid she would jump out in front of a car or something, so I went to her."

Cassandra stopped and unscrewed the flask. With a sigh, she replaced the cap without drinking. "We went to a dock of some sort. I saw the little boy. He'd been fished out of the water. He was so pale. So young. Only about six, seven at the most. He wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. The mother kept screaming, 'It's been too long!' I tried to soothe her, but there was nothing I could do. She was hysterical. I remember looking at the little boy, wishing him a painless passage. When I looked up again, the woman was gone. I was alone with a dead child."

"That must've been awful," Audrey commented, imagining the events Lady Cassandra described.

The fortune teller nodded weakly. "I cried. I didn't know who he was, who his mother was. And then Lucy was there. She knelt next to the boy and touched him. Though I didn't hear her say anything, I swear she was calling the little boy's soul back to his body. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and the boy's cheeks began to grow rosy. And Lucy, she grew so ghostly pale.

"The little boy stirred, and Lucy staggered back. I steadied her, and she whispered to me: 'There's always a price to pay.' It's like those words are etched in my memory. I didn't see her again after that, but I'd know that face anywhere. Your face is her face."

"What you're saying—" Audrey struggled to keep the emotion that had welled within her out of her voice.

"I'd understand if you chose not to believe. I make my living telling people what they want to hear."

"All I want to hear is the truth." Audrey swallowed hard.

"Well, for starters, my name isn't Lady Cassandra. It's Nancy Smith. I'm not really a psychic."

"No kidding," Nathan grunted.

"But when I met her—Lucy—like I said, I saw things. Really _saw_ them. It was the only time it had ever happened to me. Until 15 minutes ago."

"You're saying you just had a psychic vision?" Nathan asked.

"When I saw you," Cassandra confirmed looking at Audrey. "And these things I saw…" She stopped abruptly, her features contorting in pain. "Something's wrong!" she cried out, and grabbed hold of Audrey. Her fingers closed on Audrey's wrist like a vise.

"We're going to help you," Audrey said calmly, her training kicking in. "Nathan…"

"Already on it," Nathan's phone was in hand. He began to speak to someone on the other end, but Audrey's attention was diverted.

"Listen to me," Lady Cassandra rasped. "Your past is fragmented. I can see this in you. You are many. You are one. You will be who you once were. And you will be no more, Audrey Parker."

As the woman spoke, the tent seemed to shrink away from Audrey until she was no longer in the tent but somewhere unrecognizable. She had the curious sensation that she was everywhere at once. And then it happened. Events played in her mind's eye.

_Learning the catechism. _

'_Got no mom. Got no dad. That's because Audrey's bad.'_

_Cradling her broken wrist. _

_Longing for Josh Watkins to notice her. _

_Her first kiss in college. _

_Showing up for biology lab soaking wet. _

_Her first lover. _

_Sharp-shooting at Quantico. _

_Loathing Captain & Tenille._

_Drawing her weapon on Nathan. _

_Waking up at Duke's._

_Pancakes. _

_Seeing tears in Nathan's eyes._

_Scars. _

_A little boy. _

_A tattoo. _

_Beckoning someone to her._

_A murdered man. _

_A crumbling coastline. _

_Blood running in the street._

_Darkness._

Audrey gasped as the contact between herself and Lady Cassandra was broken. She swallowed air greedily, and it took her a moment to register that it was Nathan who pulled them apart.

"Parker?" Nathan knelt next to her, his hands cupping her face.

She didn't answer him immediately. She could see Nathan, hear him, feel him, but it was as though she couldn't form the words.

"Audrey? Are you okay?" _Desperation_. His hands moved to hers, rubbing them feverishly. "Come on. Say you're okay. Come on."

"Hi," she finally managed.

"Hi." Nathan couldn't feel his own heartbeat, but he imagined if he could, it would have been pounding. When Lady Cassandra had grabbed hold of Audrey and Audrey briefly lost consciousness, he'd been scared. Hell, scared wasn't even the right word. Terrified. Inwardly quaking. Lawbreakers he could handle. So could she. She was efficient. Spectacular even. But how could he protect Audrey against something neither of them could see coming?

"That was weird, Nathan. Bad weird." She felt disoriented, a veritable Rip Van Winkle awakening from a slumber.

"What happened to you?"

"I saw things. Things that have happened to me. Things that haven't." Audrey turned her head slightly to look at the fortune teller. Lady Cassandra was slumped in her chair. "Is she…?"

"She's dead," Nathan supplied. "Can't tell for sure what of. Paramedics are on the way. Julia, too."

"Nathan, the things she said…I believe her." Everything Lady Cassandra proclaimed seemed so fantastically impossible, and yet they somehow rang true to her. Was her judgment clouded? Did she just want to believe something, anything?

Nathan frowned and nodded. "I do, too."

"You do?" Audrey exhaled, relieved. Nathan was steadfast and logical, smart and decisive. If Nathan believed her, it meant she wasn't taking a trip to crazy land. Or at least if she was, she was in good company.

"Yeah." Nathan fell silent for a moment, pensive. Audrey looked at him questioningly, sensing there was something else he wanted to say. With a furrowed brow, Nathan explained, "She used your name. Neither of us ever said your name in front of her."

_To be continued…_


	3. Epic Fails and Loathing

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _Haven_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **Wow! Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback you've been giving me with this story. You have no idea how much it is appreciated! I enjoy writing very much, but the reviews really do give me that extra spark of inspiration.

I am a detail gal. In many cases, the details are given to enhance the setting/mood of the story or to add information about character backgrounds so that we better understand the motivations of our favorite characters and how they get from point A to point B. Likewise, I also throw hints out there in the details. The prophesy Lady Cassandra gave just before she died was a biggie as far as hints go, along with the images Audrey saw when she briefly blacked out. Oh, and the details also stem from the fact that I'm long-winded, but you already know that if you're still reading this note. ;)

But seriously, thank you for reading the story. As always, feedback/theorizing/critiquing are cherished.

* * *

**Part Three: "Epic Fails and Loathing Captain & Tennille"**

"This puts a damper on things," Dr. Julia Carr muttered to herself as she opened the eyelids of the obviously dead fortune teller to examine her eyes. If her mother were still living, she probably would have joked about whether the woman saw her death coming. As it was, it was tough enough not to feel like the spirit of Eleanor Carr was being channeled. For all the years of unsolicited advice her mother was prone to giving, Julia couldn't help but hear her mother's commentary loud and clear, albeit in her imagination.

When Julia received the call from dispatch about the fortune teller's death, she had just shown up at the fun fest with aspirations of a nice, normal evening and was supposed to meet Charlie Clare, a nice, normal date. _So much for that._

Days like this made Julia hate her job. She had chosen the medical profession out of a sense of hopeful idealism. She believed she could make a difference. At the moment, she wasn't sure what kind of difference she was making. She certainly had never planned on being a medical examiner, and the temporary gig was a perfect reminder of why. Of course, examining the corpse of a middle-aged woman was far less disturbing than her previous case a few days earlier: examining the remains of a man whose bones suddenly turned to mush. "Acute onset osteoporosis" was the official classification given on the death certificate. Sugar coated as usual, it seemed to be the _modus operandi_ for the Haven Medical Examiner. Because the truth—the truth would incite a panic. Julia wondered how many times her mother had covered the truth. Naturally, it begged the bigger question. Why had Eleanor Carr insisted on spending her years in a place so prone to the peculiar? And what was it about Haven that attracted weirdness?

Julia turned her attention back to the matter at hand. No signs of any violence on the woman's body, she noted. She looked to the two EMTs who stood an arm's throw away in the fortune teller's opulent tent. She nodded at them, and they began the work of bagging the body of the deceased.

Removing her latex gloves, Julia turned to Nathan and Audrey. "I'll need a statement. What can you tell me?"

Audrey was accustomed to being able to disconnect herself from the ugliness of her job, but as she tried to tell Julia what had happened, she found herself unable to form a coherent sentence. "We were talking, and she suddenly said that something was wrong…" Audrey faltered. She had no idea of what happened next other than hearing the woman saying things that made her go cold, feeling disconnected from her surroundings, and experiencing … _what?_ … visions? Hallucinations?

Nathan caught the look of uncertainty on his partner's face and seamlessly stepped in, recounting the events with precision that came with a decade on the job. "We encountered Nancy Smith, also known as Lady Cassandra, at approximately 3:50 p.m. She had fallen on the street and was suffering from shortness of breath. We came to her assistance. Officer Parker and I wanted to call an ambulance. Ms. Smith declined. At her request, we brought her here where she appeared to recover. We conversed for approximately fifteen to twenty minutes. Suddenly, Lady Cassandra gripped Officer Parker's wrist, said something was wrong, spoke cryptically, began to convulse, and then slumped in her chair. I placed a call for an ambulance, but she was already dead."

His eyes locked on Audrey, who mouthed _'Thank you'_ to him.

Julia made notations on a legal pad. "And what time did you place the call?"

Nathan pulled his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the call log. "4:23 p.m."

"So that would have placed her time of death in that vicinity," Julia commented adding to her notes. She looked up from her pad and studied Audrey who seemed far more affected by this stranger's death than Julia would have expected from her friend. Audrey hugged her arms to her body in a defensive posture, and that was when Julia noticed something else.

"Talk about giving new meaning to a death grip," Julia commented casting her eyes on the angry bruises that had formed on Audrey's hand. She looked to Nathan. "You said the deceased spoke 'cryptically'?"

Nathan and Audrey exchanged a glance, a look that was not lost on Julia. "Come on. You've done this enough. You know the rules."

"She said she knew Lucy Ripley," Audrey supplied quietly. "And she seemed to know things about me."

"Really?" Julia marveled, momentarily dropping her hat as medical examiner and reacting to her friend's news. "Were you able to find out anything before she died?"

"When Lady Cassandra grabbed Audrey, she was speaking in riddles." Nathan paused, weighing his words and whether he should say them. Knowing his partner, she was not going to be happy, but he needed to make sure she was truly okay. And after hearing how she faltered when trying to recount the events, he didn't know what choice he had. "Audrey blacked out."

Julia pursed her lips. _Of course_. Nothing was cut and dry in Haven. Normal? Dare to dream.

"How long?" Julia asked as she moved to examine Audrey, who shot a _'Thanks for throwing me under the bus'_ look at Nathan.

"Maybe 15 or 20 seconds." It sure as hell felt longer to him, though.

Audrey tried to wave off her doctor-friend. "No, I'm fine."

"Audrey…," Nathan's voice held a warning.

"Look, I can feel when I'm sick, and I'm _not_ sick. Could you do me a favor and try to be a little less helpful? " As soon as the words flew from Audrey's mouth, she regretted them. Hurt flashed in Nathan's eyes before his expression hardened.

Audrey rubbed her forehead. What kind of crappy friend was she? Even her word choice—_feel_—made her wish she could kick her own ass. She truly hadn't meant it as a slight to Nathan's inability to feel, but how else was he supposed to take it? He had been hearing nasty comments the better part of his life. Could she be any more insensitive? Epic fail. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded." She groaned in frustration. "I'm not good at this letting someone look out for me thing, and I know you're just trying to help."

"It's fine, Parker." His posture relaxed, and Audrey felt herself respond in kind, though she still wished she had a nice, big REWIND button that she could push.

"At least let me take your vitals," Julia said soothingly.

"What about her?" Audrey asked indicating the body of Lady Cassandra who was being wheeled out on the gurney by the paramedics.

"She's not in a hurry." Julia grimaced, realizing that was something her mother would have said. "Wow. That was extremely inappropriate. I won't know for sure until I get her back to the M.E.'s office, but from the broken capillaries in her eyes, I'd say she stroked out." She held up a small flashlight and shone it into Audrey's eyes. "Mmmm. Pupils are equal, round, and reactive to light. Good sign."

"So are we done?" Audrey asked.

"I still don't like the fact you lost consciousness," Julia replied, slipping the flashlight back into her medical bag.

Audrey nearly snorted. "It wasn't really my first choice either."

"Well, the good news is you're going to live. The bad news is I think you'd better not drive for twenty-four hours or so, just to be safe."

"Probably good advice in general," Nathan commented with the slightest uptick of his mouth. "Think the rental agencies would agree with me."

Audrey rolled her eyes, but a part of her was relieved that Nathan was picking on her driving abilities. That had to be a good sign.

"I'll get her home," Nathan promised Julia.

"And make sure she takes it easy. Oh, and eats something other than cupcakes," Julia instructed. "I may have some questions later. If I do, I'll give you a call. Audrey, I'll check in with you later and see how you're doing."

"I _really_ am fine," Audrey protested mildly.

Julia patted her arm. "Don't be so reluctant to let your friends look out for you. Just means we care."

Audrey nodded.

"See you soon," Julia promised before heading out of the tent, medical bag in hand.

Alone in the tent, Nathan and Audrey looked at each other. "You didn't tell Julia that I saw things when I was unconscious."

Nathan's brows lifted. "Did you want me to?"

"God no."

"'Cause if looks could kill…"

"You are still mad."

"I'm…not." Nathan pressed his lips together and shook his head slightly. "I just don't want you taking chances with your life."

And then it hit her. He hadn't been upset with her because she had off-handedly commented that she could _feel_ if she was sick. Nathan had been upset because he was worried about her.

The lump that formed in Audrey's throat surprised her. She didn't have much experience with friendship, but she couldn't help but think that the powers that be must have been making it up to her because Nathan Wuornos was, without a doubt, the best man she'd ever known.

"Nathan, I really am sorry."

"Let it go. We're fine."

Audrey remained silent.

"You trust me?" he asked.

"Yes." Without hesitation.

"Then trust that." He shifted gears. "So Lady Cassandra was able to tell us quite a bit. Good jumping off point."

Audrey cleared her throat. "Trust but verify."

"Yep." His eyes swept around their surroundings. "Just to rule out the possibilities, while we're here…"

"We should look for hallucinogens," Audrey finished, their minds on the same wavelength. "I don't know whether I'd be pissed off or relieved if we do find something."

Nathan pulled out latex gloves from a bag in the pocket of his jacket and handed her a pair. The two started on opposite sides of the tent, looking under cushions, examining a variety of incense and incense burners, and opening drawers of the furniture.

"Have any evidence bags in there?" Audrey asked looking across the room at her partner.

Nathan pulled some from his pocket.

"Always prepared. My own personal boy scout."

"I was never a boy scout," Nathan replied, amused.

The inflection in his voice made Audrey pause and look at him sideways. There was a story there. And for as much as she wanted to unravel her own mystery, she enjoyed unraveling the mystery of Nathan Wuornos. He was a private person, so each new piece of information she garnered felt like a small triumph. She wanted to ask him more about it, but they had a job to do, so it would have to wait for now.

"What did you find?" Nathan handed her the bags, their fingers brushing as he did. That slight touch felt tantalizing, even through the latex gloves, but she seemed completely oblivious to the contact.

"I thought I'd take in a sample of this incense. In some cultures, incense is made from powerful psychotropics. Makes for a more potent vision quest, I presume. So just in case…" Opening a bag, she continued, "You know, I still don't understand why everything is such a big secret around here. I mean, this woman I didn't even know was willing to tell me more than people I do know."

Nathan could hear the frustration in her voice. Audrey was right. Everywhere she turned, people were throwing up roadblocks when it came to giving information about Lucy Ripley. No one ever was what he or she truly seemed. Himself included.

Guilt crept in on Nathan. Hadn't she just told him that she trusted him? There had been no hesitation in her voice, not even for a moment. And while he didn't have cut-and-dry answers about Lucy, he wondered if he held another piece of the puzzle. He needed to tell her, had needed to for almost two months, but the longer he waited, the more difficult it became. And it never seemed like the right time. It wasn't, after all, something that one casually mentioned. _Brought in Gary Tomlinson for questions. How do pancakes sound to you? Filed the report the chief asked for. I haven't felt anything for years, but I do feel you_. No, it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was.

"Lady Cassandra didn't have anything to lose," Nathan observed. He did.

"And you think that's why everyone is so secretive?"

Nathan walked to the table centered in the tent. _Yes._ "Got no idea. You'd have to ask them."

"I have," she replied pressing together the zipper grips of the evidence bag.

He had to tell her. But not now. Not like this.

Nathan lifted the cloth that covered the table, looking for anything suspect. What he did find were special-effect buttons on the underbelly of the table that Lady Cassandra could utilize in the middle of a reading, if she so chose. "Quite the set up."

He pressed a button, and suddenly a breeze swept through the tent, blowing the curtains. It gave the interior of the tent an eerie ambiance. He pressed another button and a moaning sound filled the air. Another button caused the lights in the tent to flicker.

Audrey was impressed. "Couldn't you just see something like this in the interrogation room at the station? We could have so much fun with it."

"She didn't use them with us," Nathan remarked. "Goes in her favor, don't you think?"

"Definitely."

Nathan let the table covering fall back into place. It was then that he noticed the flask Lady Cassandra had been nursing was on the floor near the table. "Should send this to Bangor. Have toxicology run a screen on it."

After a few more minutes of scrutinizing the contents of the tent, the partners were ready to depart.

"We're going to have to file a report about what happened here and make sure her next-of-kin is informed."

Audrey looked up at Nathan, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. "More paperwork. Good thing you're such a team player."

* * *

The blue Ford Bronco rattled to a stop outside of Over the Way Bed and Breakfast. Audrey had been mostly quiet on the way home. Paperwork was an ongoing joke between them, but there was no way to make it pleasant to notify next-of-kin that a loved one was dead. As they had been about to depart Lady Cassandra's tent, Jethro Smythe, the overseer of the traveling carnival approached them, having heard about the EMTs carrying off a body bag. He had been distraught to learn of Lady Cassandra's sudden death, and immediately Audrey realized that the two had been more than business associates.

"You okay?" Nathan asked shaking her from her thoughts. The sun had set some time ago, but the streetlights provided enough light that Nathan could see the tenseness of her posture and the set of her jaw. She was mulling, much as she had been off and on for days.

"Can't get her out of my mind. Usually I can just push it aside, be detached…" her voice trailed off.

"It's understandable. She told you more than anyone's been able to."

"All I have are more questions."

"We'll figure it out," Nathan assured her.

Audrey nodded and found the familiar door handle of the truck. "Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime."

Nathan watched as she opened the door and slid out of the vehicle. She closed the door and began her short trek along the sidewalk to her room. He waited, as he always did, to make sure she got inside safely. Once she disappeared into the room she rented, and he saw the lights go on behind the blinds, he had planned to leave. Yet for some reason, he sat there, unable to make himself turn the ignition of the truck.

She had sounded almost _defeated_. Was it Lady Cassandra? Or was this about whatever had been going on with her for several days? Ever since she had helped James Garrick reconnect with his family, she had been far more subdued than the firecracker he was accustomed to. But that had turned out—well, happily wasn't the right word exactly—but Audrey helped provide the Garrick family with closure and cleared James's reputation.

So what had changed?

Nathan removed the key from the starter, exited the Bronco, and followed the path she had taken. Standing outside her door, he knocked. When she opened the door, he was surprised to see that she had already changed into yoga pants and a tank top, had her hair pulled up in a careless ponytail, and had a cupcake in hand.

"Oh, hey. Come in." She stepped aside, allowing him entrance, and closed the door behind him.

The room was small but served its purpose as a temporary residence. Not that she spent much waking time there anyway. Two plush chairs were nestled in the corner of the room, along with a coffee table, which was stacked high with books. A full-size bed took up a fair chunk of the space. The small nightstands were also covered with books. A small kitchenette dominated the wall opposite the bed.

Nathan had been inside the room Audrey rented at the bed and breakfast only once—when her blanket had literally cocooned her thanks to a boy who brought to life what he dreamed. That, like so many of the cases they had tackled together, had been interesting to say the least.

Audrey looked at Nathan with confusion. "Wow, it's been…minutes…since we've seen each other."

"Yeah. Wanted to make sure you weren't getting mauled by a blanket or something."

Audrey couldn't help the smile that spread across her features. Nathan could joke with such a straight face. It made her wonder what kind of poker player he'd be.

Knowing Nathan, she shouldn't have been surprised that he was back, not after what had happened earlier with Lady Cassandra and with how up-and-down she had been in her moods. On the other hand, wouldn't most sane men have wanted to avoid that? "You here to try to keep me out of trouble?"

"That would be a fool's errand."

"Look, I'm going to stay home and behave. I promise."

Nathan glanced toward her kitchenette. "You have anything other than cupcakes here?"

"Not so much." Audrey looked down at the dessert she held. "Want one?"

"Not so much," he echoed taking the cupcake from her hand and setting it on the counter.

She objected with a mild, "Hey!" but he ignored it.

"C'mon."

"What? Look, I'm fine. I'm just going to follow up on some of the leads we got today. By telephone," she added the last part quickly.

"You're not getting anyone from Haven on the phone tonight. They're all at the fun fest. Besides, I promised Julia you'd eat something other than cupcakes. So let's go."

"You're bossy, Wuornos."

"Must be rubbing off on me, Parker."

Her hands went to her hips. "I am _not_ bossy."

"No? How about Lorraine's Diner, a week ago?"

She could see the laughter and challenge in his eyes. "I am not bossy. I am specific. They got my order wrong last time."

"For a minute, I thought the waitress was going to invite you back to the kitchen to make lunch yourself."

Audrey moved to the bed and sat on the edge, her fuzzy-slippered feet dangling off the side. "At least I would've done it right," she defended.

"Come with me."

"It may have escaped your notice that I'm not exactly dressed for going out."

Oh, Nathan had definitely noticed. He would have to be dead not to look at her and appreciate the contrast of the snug black tank top against her creamy skin. Or the way tendrils of blond hair fell from her ponytail and curled along the curve of her neck. Or the fact that her slippers had floppy bunny ears on them.

"Where we're going, you can come as you are. I'll even let you pick the radio station in the truck."

She hesitated for a moment, weighing the desire to run through what she'd learned and try to make sense of it in solitude versus wanting to escape from the craziness of her existence for the night with Nathan. "With an offer like that, what girl could refuse?"

"Just so we're clear that the choice of radio stations is a one-time offer."

"Watch it, buster. You can't go qualifying it now, putting term limits on control of the radio."

"It's my radio," Nathan argued tossing Audrey her jacket.

"And _I'm_ the bossy one?" She slid off the bed and pulled it on. "Okay. Compromise." She raised her hands in mock surrender. "As long as there's no Captain & Tennille, we're on." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "I absolutely loathe Captain & Tennille."

_to be continued..._


	4. Domestic Partners

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _Haven_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **I am sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Real life has provided some interesting bumps in the road in the last week and a half. Hopefully the chapter isn't too much of a drag. There is some fluff involved, but I think there is also some subtle (and not so subtle) movement, as well.

But seriously, thank you for reading the story. As always, feedback/theorizing/critiquing are cherished. You guys really do keep me going with the reviews. Reviews fuel the plot bunnies.

* * *

**Part Four: "Domestic Partners"**

Nathan Wuornos had been the one constant in Audrey Parker's life since the moment she arrived in Haven. First impressions notwithstanding—after all, she _had_ thought he was just a small town hick when he knocked on the window of her rental car as it was precariously balanced on the edge of a cliff—he had become the one person she looked forward to seeing each day. His opinion was the one that mattered to her. His judgment was the one she trusted. And yet for all the hours she and Nathan had spent together as partners and friends, Audrey had never been inside his house. So when he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his modest, craftsman-style home, she was intrigued.

"When you said I could come as I was, I was thinking fast food in the truck."

After putting the vehicle in park, Nathan looked across the bench at Audrey, her profile illuminated by the lights coming from the instrument panel. "Would you rather have fast food?"

"And miss seeing the inside of your lair? I don't think so," she laughed.

"My _lair_?" Nathan repeated incredulously as he shut off the engine. "And maybe after dinner I can show you my secret laboratory."

"Make fun all you want, but this is a big, freaking deal."

"Why?" he asked, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"Are you _kidding_? We spend a lot of time together, probably more than most married couples, and I have never seen the inside of your house."

"It's just a house."

"But it's _your_ house with _your_ things." She grinned. "I learn something new about you every day, but this … this is going to be the jackpot." Audrey opened the door and slid out of the Bronco, greeted by the cool night air. She could feel the goose bumps form on the back of her neck, but she wasn't entirely convinced that they were solely due to the temperature. Anticipation had to be playing its part because the eagerness she felt was nearly palpable.

Nathan seemed unaffected by both the coolness of the fall air and her excitement as he made his way around the truck and to the sidewalk, taking his time and being a bit too nonchalant, in her opinion.

Motion-activated floodlights broke up the darkness. Following Nathan down the sidewalk, Audrey stepped up and then stopped on the large, covered front porch while he unlocked the door. As she waited, her eyes fell upon the rocking chairs that moved ever-so-gently in the wind. Did he sit out there often, she wondered? There were two chairs. Why two when he lived alone? Unless Nathan wasn't quite the loner she had pegged him for.

Nathan's eyes fell on Audrey who was, by his estimation, uncharacteristically quiet. With the lights, it was easy for him to spot the fierce curiosity that played upon her features. It was that same interest he saw her demonstrate when they worked on cases, as her mind ran through scenarios, possibilities, and probabilities. And it was all focused on his life. Some men would have been flattered. Others offended. Nathan was neither, but how exactly he felt about her scrutiny was tough to nail down.

Nathan was used to the fishbowl, the peril of living in a town where pretty much everyone knew, or at least knew _of_, everyone else. Growing up, there were those who shied away from him because of his affliction and those—like Duke Crocker—who sought him out to make him the punch lines of their jokes. Even after he had regained his sense of touch and kept it for two-plus decades, there were whispers. And now that he was 'troubled' again, he was the subject of more speculation. The hushed tones had died down—mostly—but he had heard enough. He was cursed. It was payback for something. He was unnatural. And it just became easier to not deal with people, to not put himself out there for public consumption.

But Audrey—Audrey wasn't like the others. Her curiosity was more than a fascination with the weird, he realized. It was a genuine interest in him, in his life. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out _why_ she was so curious. Other than the obvious, Nathan did not consider himself unusual or even particularly interesting. He was just a semi-ordinary guy living in his bizarre hometown. No big secrets. No secrets, really, but one.

He really needed to tell her.

But once again, it came back to consequences.

How was she supposed to react to knowing that when their skin touched, her warmth made him feel like he was going to catch fire from the thrill? That the slight friction of skin-on-skin contact made him feel like he was going to come unglued? That those moments when they accidentally touched or carelessly brushed against one another had been some of the best moments he'd had in over three years?

It was too much to put on someone. How was she supposed to take it when he didn't even know what to make of it?

Yet it all came back to this. _He still _really_ needed to tell her._

"You act like I'm some mystery to solve," he commented, flipping on the lights inside as he entered the house before her.

"You are, in a way," she admitted, following after him. She shut the door behind her and scanned the room.

This was it. Nathan's home. Masculine colors. Dark blue walls. Oak trim and floors. Streamlined furniture. Beige sofa and rust colored chair. Stone-work fireplace. Built-in shelves. Books. Photos. Understated. It was so _him_, she decided.

Audrey liked it immediately.

He scoffed. "There's nothing remotely mysterious about me."

"Please," she countered, rolling her eyes. "You've got this whole quiet brooding thing going on. You get that intense look on your face."

His brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"That's it right there," she replied pointing. "Makes all the women crazy," she teased.

"Can't speak about 'all the women', but you are definitely a little…"

"Hey, watch it if you know what's good for you." Without thinking, she poked his arm in protest.

Pressure. Sensation branching out in a ripple effect. Was his heart beating faster? Had to be, even if he couldn't feel it. But he tried to remain calm, collected. This was his problem, not hers. "Maybe I'd be more threatened if you weren't wearing bunny slippers," he replied dryly as he looked down at her footwear.

"That's your fault, you know. You wouldn't let me change."

"But the fact that you even have bunny slippers..."

"I have one word for you, Wuornos. Decoupage."

He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and shook his head, half in amusement, half in admiration. "Damn."

Feeling pleased with herself, Audrey slipped off her jacket and passed it to Nathan.

Their hands brushed.

Purely accidental. Purely platonic. She was already walking further into the living room, completely oblivious to the effect she had on him as he tried to push it all aside and just hang up the garment in the entryway closet. Moments like that had happened off and on for weeks. They were nothing to her. They were everything to him. He would've thought that by now he would have become immune to the effect her touch had on him. But no, that would have been too easy, and the one thing Nathan had learned in his life was that nothing was _ever_ easy.

"You going to give me the tour or what?"

"Not that much to see. We're in the living room." He pointed to the left. "Down that hallway, my bedroom, guest bedroom, bathroom, secret laboratory that doubles as a small office."

"See, I knew this place was a lair."

He pointed straight ahead. "Through there, kitchen and breakfast nook. Half-bath. Laundry room and workshop in the basement. Storage in the attic where I keep all my skeletons."

"And to think I was expecting your skeletons to be located in the closet."

"Common mistake. Skeletons don't fit with the coats in there. You hungry?"

"Always. Let me guess. You're thinking…pancakes?"

"Would be predictable, but surprisingly, no," he replied.

"Oh, branching out."

"Don't get to cook as often as I'd like, but I do enjoy it. Grilled chicken okay?"

"Love it. So what can I do to help?"

* * *

A few minutes later, Nathan walked outside to the back deck adjacent to the kitchen and fired up the grill. Audrey remained inside, washing potatoes over the deep, stainless steel sink, though she silently vowed that before the night was through, she would get a better look at the photographs Nathan had displayed in the living room.

The back door opened, letting in a burst of cool air, eliciting a shiver from her. Nathan was unmindful of the temperature himself, though he did notice Audrey's reaction as he entered the kitchen from the outside. He could have kicked himself. He had been so wrapped up in everything else, he had not given any thought to her comfort level. It was something he took for granted, but in her tank top and yoga pants, she wasn't exactly layered up for fall weather. "Too cold in here?"

She shrugged. "Just when you open the door."

"Kind of presents a logistics problem," he replied as he walked to the fridge, removed a covered glass pan, and set it on the counter.

"What you got?" she asked moving closer and peering around him.

"The chicken. Been marinating it all day."

"Oh, a planner. So you were expecting company…?"

"Was expecting leftovers. Hold that thought…" Nathan disappeared down the hall and returned a moment later with a University of Maine sweatshirt. "Should help with the cold air."

"Thanks," Audrey smiled and took it from him. As she pulled it over her head, she noticed the combination of scents—fabric softener, sandalwood, and the unique smell of Nathan himself. The sweatshirt swallowed her smaller frame, so she pushed up the sleeves. She found it comfortable.

The two settled into a kitchen routine, Audrey peeling potatoes, while Nathan mixed together ingredients for biscuits, which she was impressed to see were from scratch—not from a refrigerated metal can. His movements were self-assured. If the cooking apron he put on hadn't given it away, then the skills she observed in him did. Nathan Wuornos might have no game with the women, but he did have game in the kitchen.

Audrey wasn't entirely a slouch in the kitchen herself, though it was a room she associated with punishment more than with pleasure. She'd certainly peeled her fair share of potatoes at St. Mary's on kitchen duty. Maybe that was why she generally spent as little time as possible in the kitchen. That, and she didn't see much point in fixing a nice dinner for one when there were so many leads to chase, mysteries to solve, and bad guys to catch.

She made short work of the potatoes, slicing them into chunks after she finished peeling them, and dropped them into a pot of water, which Nathan placed on a stove burner.

"Looks like you've done this before," Nathan indicated Audrey's work with the potatoes.

"Sister Agatha thought redemption could be found in peeling potatoes, scrubbing pots and pans, you name it."

"And she figured you needed redemption." Nathan went back to his dough, rolling it onto the counter.

"Yeah. And a lot of it."

"Was she right?"

Audrey shrugged. "Maybe. I got pretty good at making mashed potatoes. What about you? Did your dad teach you how to cook?"

"God no. Trial and error. Urged on by a girl I used to date who was a foodie."

"Should've known. I definitely don't see the chief in one of these," Audrey commented as she ran her fingers under the bib of his apron and tugged on it gently. "Suits you though." She released the apron and patted his shoulder where she had tugged on the material.

He sucked in a breath.

She looked at him questioningly, as though on the verge of realizing. Then she seemed to push the thought aside.

Nathan was mentally kicking himself. Audrey was the smartest person he knew. Keen. Knowledgeable. Yet she had dismissed the possibility because she trusted him. And wasn't a lie of omission a lie just the same?

He should just tell her.

_Audrey, I can feel you._

And then what?

If she thought seeing the inside of his house was a big deal, what would Audrey think about the fact that she was the only person, the only thing, he'd been able to feel in years? Would it freak her out? Make her feel pressured to be his scratching post? Would she be angry that he kept quiet? Would it ruin the solid partnership they'd forged? Their friendship?

When Audrey came to Haven, Nathan hadn't been looking for a partner or a friend, but he'd found both. And the thought of having neither when she was the one person he looked forward to seeing each day, the one who drew him from his self-imposed exile, the one who challenged him, absolutely terrified him.

"So have you cooked for a lot of women?"

Audrey's question pulled Nathan from his quiet torment. His teeth grazed his bottom lip. "A few."

"How many is a few?"

"A few," he repeated.

"Vague much? I know I joke around about you not having game, but I wasn't joking about the women out there. There are plenty who are interested…" Her voice trailed off.

"Not much point to it. As long as I'm like this…" Nathan cleared his throat. "So what's your excuse? I've actually been on a date this year, unlike you."

"I'll have you know…"

"Duke doesn't count," Nathan interrupted.

"Try telling that to Duke." She shuffled her feet, the plastic bottoms of her fuzzy slippers making a _swoosh_ sound against the tile of the kitchen floor. "Nathan, I know it's been tough for you not being able to feel, but there's more to a good relationship than the physical. There's common interests, humor, friendship. I just—you're a good guy. I don't want you to be alone."

"Could just get a dog."

Audrey frowned. "I'm being serious."

"So am I."

* * *

An hour later, the two partners were clearing the dishes from the breakfast nook, carrying them to the sink. Audrey leaned back against the counter after she set down her load. "I think you may have to roll me out of here. I ate too much."

"Truck looks beaten up, but the payload's great. Should be able to handle you."

Audrey wasn't sure whether to laugh out loud or just really nail Nathan in the arm. Violence wouldn't do any good, she finally decided, though maybe it would have made _her_ feel better. And laughing—well, she finally decided that one should not laugh at those who can't help themselves. Poor guy. "No game at all," Audrey muttered.

But Nathan, with his acute hearing, caught her comment. "If I tried, I would. Said so yourself."

"Yeah, I don't think that's quite what I said. But I've got to tell you. I never want to eat out again. Not when I can come here and eat like this."

"Will even throw in the insults for free," Nathan replied reaching across her for a dishtowel.

"Would be worth it."

While his sense of touch might have been nearly non-existent, his taste buds certainly worked, and Nathan had to admit that dinner was pretty damn good. The chicken was marinated and grilled to perfection, the steamed broccoli had just the right amount of crispness, the biscuits emerged from the oven as melt-in-your-mouth buttery goodness, and Audrey's mashed potatoes capped off the meal.

"Usually too much going on to cook," Nathan commented.

Audrey nodded. "It _has_ been pretty quiet tonight. Nice for a change."

Nathan couldn't agree more. After the day Audrey had, it was well deserved. The afternoon had been uneventful for a while, good even, but the episode with Lady Cassandra had definitely snuffed out the calm. The woman's words were eerie, more so because they held the ring of truth. He had certainly been skeptical—had to be in his line of work—but for her to know Audrey's name without being told, for her to have known Lucy… No, there was something to it.

"Yeah. It's been nice."

_Nice. _

They'd both used it, but the word hung in the air. Somehow it all felt more than _nice_ to Audrey. It felt natural. And all those things that had been eating at her earlier seemed less important somehow.

_Strange._

Then again, that was Nathan's effect on her. His steadiness calmed her, especially lately. He had once said that maybe she could fix him—and she'd had no idea of how she should take that, so she'd laughed it off at the time. But now she wondered if maybe Nathan wasn't a fix for what ailed _her_.

She silently chided herself. It wasn't exactly fair to expect him to—what?—hold her hand while she tried to figure out who the hell she was.

Nathan sensed Audrey's shift in mood and attempted to lighten it. "You trying to slack on the dishes?"

"If I load the dishwasher, are you going to tell me I'm doing it wrong?"

"Maybe."

Audrey tugged at the neckline of the sweatshirt that had slipped down her shoulder. "Or maybe I can teach you a thing or two."

"Does that superior FBI training cover dish loading techniques?" His tone was wry.

"Okay, so maybe the dishwasher should stay under local jurisdiction," she conceded.

Five minutes and one loaded dishwasher later, the two moved to the living room. Audrey found herself gravitating to the photographs she saw on the mantle above the fireplace. One featured an older couple. _His grandparents?_ she wondered. Another was of a woman and a little boy. She recognized the boy as Nathan immediately—the bright blue eyes and cleft chin were telltale indicators. But what really struck Audrey was just how adorable little Nathan was. One of his front teeth was missing, the other front tooth only partially grown in. He was actually smiling broadly, no reservation.

Audrey had never particularly gravitated toward children, but looking at the photo, she couldn't help but find this little guy endearing. "I always kind of thought all kids looked alike, but you were a cute kid."

Nathan appeared at her side. "I was a mess."

"Guess not much has changed," she said looking at him sideways with her lips quirked upward. "Is this your mom?"

"Yep."

Audrey studied the woman. She was smiling as she held her young son, and her smile reached her eyes. Audrey was struck by how open she seemed, how joyful. Her light-brown hair was pulled back making the structure of her cheekbones all the more exquisite. Nathan had his mother's cheekbones. Her eyes, too. "She's really pretty. The two of you look so happy."

Nathan's expression softened. "It was impossible not to be happy around her."

His words struck her, and Audrey fought back the lump that formed in her throat. She tried to pull herself together. This was his loss, not hers, but she ached for him, for that little boy, and perhaps even for herself, that she never knew a mother's love. "She must have been very special."

"Yep."

Audrey wondered if she was intruding. "You don't like to talk about her?"

He shook his head. "It's not that. I just—I don't really know what I should say and what I shouldn't about her."

Audrey caught his meaning. He was worried about talking about his heritage, about his family, when she still had so many questions about her own. "You don't have to tiptoe around me, Nathan. About anything," she assured him. "I want to hear."

Nathan nodded, but he remained contemplative. "She was the heart of our family. She sang a lot. Made up silly songs, would put our names into them. I think she must've been fiery. She was never afraid to tell my dad when he was being a jackass." That elicited a smile from Audrey who knew all too well what the chief was like. "She took me everywhere. I never felt lonely when she was around. And then one day she was gone."

Audrey's mouth suddenly felt dry. "What happened?"

His brows furrowed. "She drowned."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry, Nathan. That must've been awful for you."

His eyes focused on the photo. "It was a long time ago." He paused, trying to push away the emptiness that threatened to invade him if he dwelled on the loss. "This was the last picture of us. Was taken at the fall fun fest."

Audrey looked closer. "Oh, I see the clown in the background now."

"Must've been that same carnival where Lady Cassandra met Lucy." The new realization had Nathan's internal detective monitor going off. Not that he figured it pertained directly, but it did give them a frame of reference.

And his mind started running in overdrive. There were so many questions. Who was the little boy Lucy saved? It was strange to think that it was probably someone he knew, someone around his own age. Was he still in Haven? Could he shed some light on the mystery surrounding Lucy Ripley? And how in the hell does a woman breathe life back into the dead?

And there were other things, too, that had Nathan's mind racing. What about the masks that melded to the wearers' faces? There had to be some record of the event. Or the man who pulled Lucy away after the incident with the trapeze artist? Who was he? What was he to Lucy?

For all the effort Nathan had put into trying to keep Audrey's mind off the strange events of the day, he found it ironic that now he was the one who brought them right back around to it.

Audrey swallowed hard. What a long, weird-even-for-Haven kind of day it had been. Lady Cassandra had been the only one to tell her much of anything about Lucy, but all she had to show for it were more questions.

"…_you are of Lucy, but I do not think you are her daughter."_

What did Lady Cassandra mean by 'of Lucy'? Was she Lucy? It made no sense. She remembered her childhood, her teen years, college…how could she be someone else?

"Hey, we're going to find out about Lucy."

Nathan voice was reassuring, calming, and Audrey wanted to believe him. But what was it the chief said about her? Her value lay in the fact that she saw things for what they were, not as she wanted them to be.

Or else, she used to.

Since when had she become such a coward? Yet she could not drive away that nagging feeling that she was twisted in the wreckage of a calamity that hadn't quite happened yet.

"I'm just scared of what we're going to find out," Audrey admitted. Her thoughts turned to the large scar hidden underneath the fuzzy bunny sippers she wore. She walked to the couch and sat, tucking her foot beneath her, hiding that ragged scar under another layer. If she hid it, would it go away?

"Look, no matter what we find out about Lucy, you're still you."

"Am I?" Audrey choked out. "Nathan, do you remember the things Lady Cassandra said when she grabbed hold of me?"

_Did he ever. _

On the other hand, just because they were in Haven didn't mean that all rationality flew out the window. When the fortune teller began speaking cryptically, she was in the midst of a medical episode. Could they really give those words the same credence that they did her others?

Nathan voiced his doubt. "At that point, she was talking crazy."

"That's just it. I don't think she was. _'Your past is fragmented.'_ That was the first thing Lady Cassandra said, and she's right. I can fit my whole life into one box, Nathan. Literally. _All_ my school records, pictures, mementos. They fit in a freaking shoebox because there are so many gaping holes in my background. I have no idea where I was born, who my parents were, or even if my birthday really is September 10." Tears welled in her eyes, and she carelessly brushed them away, groaning, before crossing her arms and hugging herself.

Her groan said it all to Nathan. She was trying to hold it together, hated to show what she perceived as a weakness. But for as much as she fought against the tears, he couldn't help but wonder if she would be better off if she didn't just have a good cry and get it out of her system.

He sat next to her on the couch, disregarding the usual professional distance they maintained. They weren't touchy-feely friends, a fact he had rued since he discovered he could feel her, though distance certainly kept their situation less complicated. But as he reached out and ran his hands along her forearms, tugging at them ever so slightly to pull her toward him, to open her up, touching Audrey seemed like the most authentic, the most _real_, thing he had ever done.

Warmth. Softness. Vulnerability. Strength. His breath hitched as she allowed herself to be drawn to him. Audrey grasped on to the fabric of his shirt, and Nathan could faintly feel her small fingers dig in.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured in her ear.

"Oh crap, it must be bad," she half-sniffled and half-laughed into his chest after a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"We're hugging. We don't hug." She pulled back, meeting his eyes.

"There are lots of things people don't do that maybe they should."

She nodded. "You're right. I've been keeping something from you, Nathan."

"Does it have anything to do with your sudden devotion to cupcakes?"

"And why I've been such a basket case."

"Well, I wasn't going to say it but..." He dropped the nonchalance. "Tell me."

"For years, I hoped that I would be adopted. I just—I wanted to belong somewhere with someone. I found out when I was eighteen that I was never available for adoption. Why? I'll never know because the records are sealed. But at the time, I thought it didn't matter. I talked myself into not caring. Look ahead, not back. But now…"

"It matters," Nathan supplied.

"Yeah. Being here—being tied here and not understanding how—I think it's important. Lady Cassandra said that that I would be who I once was, and then I would be no more."

"She was dying, Parker. In pain. Delusional."

"No, I think she was lucid. She knew what she was saying, and it fits into something that I've known for days. I've just not been strong enough—brave enough—to face it."

"Come on…"

"No, seriously. I'm not as badass as I thought. All it took was one scar, Nathan. One lousy scar." Her lips pursed, forming a tight line. He slid his fingers along hers, and enveloped her small hand with his larger one.

"What are you talking about?"

"James Garrick." Audrey took a deep breath, willing herself to continue. "You know what was happening with him. He told me—he told me that years ago Lucy helped him when he was phasing. James broke a glass, and it cut her on the bottom of her foot, but she never let go of him. She—she kept him together."

Audrey hesitantly slid her left foot from the slipper.

* * *

_to be continued..._


	5. Not Even a Cool Scar

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _Haven_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you so much for all the feedback I received from chapter 4. It really is helpful as a writer when I can see what does and doesn't work for you. I'm glad you enjoyed the domestic side of Nathan and Audrey. I was worried that I might have stretched them too far ooc, so I was relieved that several of you mentioned them being kept in character. I also enjoyed reading your theories about some of the story's mysteries. I won't tell you how close you are (or aren't), but I will say that the _Haven_ fandom has some very intelligent readers. :)

As always, thank you for reading the story. If you so choose, please review. It keeps the plot bunnies going.

* * *

**Chapter Five: "Not Even a Cool Scar"**

This was the last thing Nathan Wuornos needed today. But there it was: the familiar cadence of footsteps. Nathan could hear the swagger before he even saw the man. Refusing to look up from his work, he knew he was being rude at best and subordinate at worst, but somehow he just couldn't make himself care in any appreciable way.

"Heard you're looking into some old reports." Garland Wuornos's gravely voice was as close to conversational as it got. Small talk was not his forte, something his son inherited from him, though Nathan would be hard pressed to admit it. The chief stopped as he closed in on his son's desk. The institution-looking piece of furniture separated them, but the void between father and son felt much wider and much harsher than the cold, polished metal of the desk.

"Followed protocol. Signed them out," Nathan replied absently, leafing through the papers and hoping the chief would move on.

The older man leaned against the desk, half-sitting, half-standing. "Maybe I can help. For what case?"

That stopped Nathan mid-motion. He looked up at his father, frowning. "It's personal, and I'm off the clock."

"Helping Audrey, are you?"

There was no point denying it. "Trying to."

The chief looked toward the empty desk perpendicular to Nathan's. He was surprised Parker wasn't there with him. The two had been glued at the hip for months, and it was rare to see one without the other, even on their days off from work. "I see."

Nathan's frown deepened. "And what exactly do you see?"

Garland fished out a piece of nicotine gum from his shirt pocket, removed the wrapper, and popped it in his mouth. "This have anything to do with that fortune teller?" He watched as his son's eyes widened slightly before narrowing into a defensive posture. "Come on, Nathan. A woman dies in my town, and you think I wouldn't know, wouldn't ask about it?"

"I already filed the report."

"You left out the part where the dead woman called your partner 'Lucy'."

Nathan clenched his fists. A part of him wished he had never heard the name Lucy, that Audrey had never seen the newspaper clipping from the Colorado Kid murder. Then again, if Audrey hadn't seen it, she never would have stayed in Haven. And he—well, he would probably be at the same damn desk having a different argument with the chief. She would be chasing after the next case, the next criminal, the next lead with audacity bordering on recklessness. Anything to solve the case. Anything to get the bad guys.

So just thinking about how genuinely frightened she had been the night before—Audrey who was always as cool as they came—what was he supposed to make of that? He'd been replaying things over and over, wondering if he should've handled things differently. But it ultimately came down to this. Done is done. And she wasn't alone.

"_I'm not as badass as I thought. All it took was one scar, Nathan. One lousy scar."_

_Nathan could hear the choked emotion in Audrey's voice. "What are you talking about?"_

"_James Garrick. Years ago, Lucy helped him when he was phasing. James broke a glass, and it cut her on the bottom of her foot, but she never let go of him. She—she kept him together." _

_She tentatively slid the slipper from her left foot._

_Nathan exhaled loudly as Audrey lifted her small foot. "You have a scar." _

"_Not _a_ scar. _The_ scar. Great night for an identity crisis, right?" She chewed on her bottom lip as she lowered her foot._

_Nathan slid off the couch and knelt in front of her. He rested his hands on the sofa on either side of her but did not touch her_. How he wanted to_. But to what end? The last thing she needed was another complication or any doubt that their friendship was conditional, that he had other expectations from her. _

_Nathan studied her features, porcelain skin, perfectly rounded lips, glossy blond hair, the strength of her hands. "Lucy would be in her fifties by now. And you're-" Nathan faltered. Audrey was beautiful and didn't even know it. He tried not to think of her that way, and usually he could push it aside, but when he really looked at her as he did now, it was impossible not to notice_. Focus Wuornos. Focus._ Audrey was so much younger than Lucy. But that scar, that damn scar had her terrified, shaken, doubting herself. "—not."_

"_Don't," she shook her head, her eyes pleading with him. "Don't say it's impossible. Not after the things we've seen."_

"_Wasn't going to say impossible," Nathan replied soothingly, meeting her teary eyes. "I know better. But you know how this works. We've got to rule things out."_

_Audrey wiped her eyes with the sleeve of the sweatshirt, took a deep breath, and nodded, seeming to will herself to regain her composure. "That's what I've been doing for days. Between cupcakes," she added flatly._

"_Humor me."_

"_35-14-2."_

"_What's that?"_

"_My high school locker combination. It's been a lot of years, but I still remember it. Do you remember yours?"_

"_I've kind of tried to block out high school," he admitted. _

"_There are things I wish I could. I remember Josh Hopkins hitting me in the nose with a basketball in P.E. I had always wanted him to notice me." She grimaced at the memory. "Technically he did when I started bleeding all over the place. Not quite what I had in mind." Audrey began to pick at the skin on the side of her thumb. "I remember on my first day of college, there was a torrential downpour and I had to cross campus without an umbrella. I showed up to biology lab late, feeling like a drowned rat, and when I left, there was a puddle in my seat. No wisecracks, Wuornos."_

"_Wasn't going to say it."_

"_And I remember when I met you, you were wearing a wool sweater, gray t-shirt, brown jacket, blue jeans, and a _very_ wry expression."_

"_You lumping me in with bad memories?" Nathan's brows were raised._

_Despite her dreary mood, Audrey managed a small smile. "I _did_ almost die that day listening to Captain & Tennille, of all things. Oh, and you pulled a gun on me." _

"_You pulled a gun on me, too."_

_Her voice softened. "But meeting you definitely wasn't bad." Audrey paused, and when she spoke again, her tone was far more no-nonsense. "The point is that I remember things—"_

"_Names?" Nathan challenged. Perhaps he didn't have the automatic recall Audrey had for memories, but he _had_ watched her struggle on more than one occasion to remember the names of co-workers at the Haven PD. _

"_Okay, other things. And I never forgot _your_ name." Audrey looked down at her foot. "But I have no idea how I got this scar. You'd think I would remember that."_

_Nathan reached out and cradled her foot, resting it on his leg so he could examine it better. "Yeah. This would've taken stitches. Maybe you were too young to remember. You looked through your medical files?"_

_Audrey nodded. "No record of any stitches. Other than the broken wrist I had, there's nothing in there but yearly checkups. Not even going to the doctor for the sniffles."_

"_That would've made you one hell of a healthy kid," he replied holding onto her calf and setting her foot back on the floor. "Sure you have all your medical records?"_

"_Positive. All of us… free agents… at St. Mary's went to Dr. Wade Barker, pediatrician extraordinaire. Always. I got my records from his office when I turned eighteen. I'm telling you, this scar has been there my whole life. I never thought anything of it before James Garrick, but now it's like I can't think of anything _but _the scar. And to add insult to injury, it's not even a cool scar."_

_Nathan stood, exhaling loudly. "You've been dealing with all this by yourself?" _

"_What could anyone do? I mean, it is what it is. It sucks and it's weird." She slipped her foot back into the bunny slipper and stood. "If I am somehow Lucy, it answers a lot of questions for me."_

_Nathan crossed his arms. "But it brings up so many more, and an unexplained scar doesn't mean you're Lucy."_

"_I know, but it's everything else that goes along with the scar. The resemblance is just too close. You look like your mom, Nathan, you do." Audrey peered over at the mantle, spotted the photograph she had studied earlier, and looked back at her friend. "You have her eyes, her cheekbones. But you aren't a replica of her."_

"_Good thing. I'd hate to be pretty," Nathan deadpanned._

"_You know what I mean!" Audrey rolled her eyes. "You're trying to cheer me up by making this whole thing funny, but it's not, Nathan. It's just…not."_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_No, look. I'm sorry. I'm just taking things out on you, which you don't deserve. You've never been anything but wonderful to me, and tonight—tonight's been..." her voice trailed off. Audrey swallowed hard, pausing to collect herself. "Here's the thing. I look like Lucy, _exactly_. The same eyes. The same bone structure. The same mouth. The same…flat chest. The same scar. Thank God at least my hair is different." _

"_Who's making jokes now?"_

"_I'm really freaking out, Nathan, and I don't really know what to do. I mean, this type of thing isn't really covered at Quantico."_

"_Hey, it's going to be okay." Nathan reached out and rested his hand along the nape of her neck. It was to comfort her, he reminded himself, but as he became acutely aware of the warmth of her skin, her steady pulse beneath the surface, and the smooth cascade of her hair over his hand, he felt like his awakened nerves were going into overdrive. Above all else, he just_ felt_. _

_Nathan watched for any sign of discomfort on her part; after all, this was not their thing. High fives, maybe. Accidental touches. Not _this_. This was deliberate. This was personal. _

_But she seemed to lean into his touch. _

"_When you say it, I almost believe it."_

"_I'm on your side, no matter what." He trailed his hand from her neck across her left shoulder, gave it a light squeeze, and let go. Being physically close to Audrey, touching her, it could only complicate things._

_She nodded. "In all this mess, that's the one thing I do know." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "There's the resemblance. Then there's the secrecy. Let's face it. I've been playing catch-up since I got here, like there's a message I can't translate without the secret decoder ring from a Capt'n Crunch cereal box. Only all the Capt'n Crunch is sold out."_

"_You're right. Folks aren't very forthcoming," Nathan acknowledged, not quite able to look at her as he once again felt the weight of his own secret._

"_Haven's not that big of a place, and people knew Lucy. She…she helped some of them. But when it comes down to it, people here tiptoe around the subject of her. Why? What's the big secret?"_

"_And where has she gone?" Nathan supplied, meeting her eyes._

_Audrey nodded. "Exactly what I was about to ask. Weird."_

"_Good weird."_

"_Yeah." She played with the hem of the sweatshirt she wore. Nathan's sweatshirt. "Look, I had the full resources of the whole freaking FBI at my disposal. Her trail ran cold. I couldn't find any record of Lucy before or after 1983. I thought maybe Lucy Ripley was an alias, but I could find nothing else. Everyone slips up. Everyone leaves a trail. Not her. And then with Lady Cassandra…and her saying that I was 'of Lucy,' and then the visions…Nathan, these visions were so real."_

"_What did you see?"_

"_Just snapshots. Quick images of things that have happened, but it felt like I was there. The emotions were real, both good and bad. Learning the catechism, breaking my wrist, being at Quantico, you, pancakes. Mixed in there were things that haven't happened, but they felt real, too, only not as clear to me. I was beckoning someone to me, I saw the weird tattoo, blood running down the street, darkness."_

_Nathan frowned. He didn't particularly like the sound of blood running down the street, but for now, he had to work under the assumption that Audrey's visions were just the result of whatever strangeness was going on with Lady Cassandra. Who knew if they were real? It wasn't exactly as though they could ask the fortune teller herself. "Anything that would point to you being Lucy? Anything that could've been from her life?"_

_Audrey shook her head. _

"_Well, we know you had a childhood. You grew up. You didn't just show up as Lucy Ripley, frozen in time."_

"_I had a childhood, yes, with no parents. But now it really makes me wonder. I mean, did I ever even have parents?"_

"_The sisters never would let you see your file?"_

"_No. They said they had an obligation to remain discreet. They had to follow their oath, which evidently didn't involve breaking promises of anonymity."_

_Nathan's teeth grazed his bottom lip. "I'm surprised they could say no to you. You can be convincing."_

"_You're probably the only one to think so. Well, maybe Duke, too. Sister Agatha sat next to me, patted my hand, and politely told me to stop wasting my time."_

"_So you did?"_

_"You've obviously never dealt with a nun before," Audrey replied, an ironic smile spreading across her features before fading. "I have to think the timing of all this isn't coincidental."_

"_You think all of this is connected to the Troubles?"_

"_Lucy was here when the Troubles broke out last time. I'm here now, and surprise. Troubles."_

_Nathan's jaw clenched. And so it came back to this. And why wouldn't it? Their whole existence in Haven was tempered by the dark cloud that loomed overhead, the one that never fully let them forget that they were living on borrowed time until the next catastrophe. But Audrey couldn't really think she was somehow responsible, could she? Yet the slump of her shoulders and the creases on her forehead told him otherwise._

"_Audrey, I think we both know my condition doesn't have a medical explanation. I was… like this… before you came to town. My point is you're not the cause of the Troubles. You help people."_

"_I don't know how to help them. Right now I can't even help myself."_

"_You've helped _me_." Nathan sheepishly moved his hand closer to Audrey's until the side of his hand grazed hers. Her hand was small, he noticed, as he slid his palm over hers, their fingers intertwining. "Your hand is cold."_

_Audrey's eyes widened._

Nathan tossed down the file he had been perusing. "Wouldn't be the first time details were left out of a report. So if this is an official reprimand, place the notice in my file and be done with it."

Garland crossed his arms. "Not finding what you're looking for?"

"You know I'm not." Nathan's steely gaze met his father's as the accusation hung in the air.

"This how it's gonna be? You on the attack?"

"You tell me. You were the officer on the scene when the 'mask malfunction' occurred back in 1983. You wrote that the wearers had an allergic reaction to the plastic. Exactly how does that work?"

"Let this one go, Nathan."

"Just verifies what Lady Cassandra said."

"The dead woman? She talked about the masks?" Garland could not hide the surprise in his voice.

"Among other things. There apparently was a little boy who drowned, one Lucy Ripley brought back, but what a shock, there's nothing anywhere about him, either."

Garland's nostrils flared. "Some things are better left alone, Nathan."

Frustration poured from the younger man. "So you walk in here saying you want to help when really all you want to do is sideline me. Is this another one of your tests? Dangling a carrot? Whatever happened to defending the truth?"

The chief pointed to the stitched emblem on his uniform shirt. "See this? 'To serve and protect.' You're so stubborn, so convinced you're right. You ever think that maybe I'm trying to protect Audrey? And you?"

"From what?"

* * *

_to be continued..._


	6. Poking the Bear

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _Haven_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **My apologies for the lapse of time between this update and the previous. I struggled a bit with finding the right tone because I really wanted to do these scenes justice. I hope I have! The good news is that I already have chapter 7 mostly written, so the wait for the next chapter will not be so long. I also have a fluffy little Christmas story in the works. :)

As always, thank you for reading the story, and for those of you who review, it really does mean so much to me. Writing is, in and of itself, a reward, but the reviews are icing on the cake, and they really help me to know what you like, don't like, as well as what does and doesn't work. So if you so choose, please review.

* * *

**Chapter Six: "Poking the Bear"**

Audrey Parker had always hated the expression '_pounding the pavement_.'

Maybe it was because it reminded her of her much-dreaded instructor from the FBI Academy, Miles Roarke, who used the expression ad nauseum to describe the life of an agent.

If she thought about it, she could still hear the speech. _"Folks,"_ he had told them in his Southern drawl as he began class in the same way each day, _"if you think FBI work is all about guns blazin' and glory, you'd better get out now. It's about poundin' the pavement. Doin' the grunt work. It's the mundane things you do that'll help you solve your cases."_

Or maybe it was because the idiom itself exemplified just how futile it felt to keep going and going but feel like you were making no progress. Seriously, who pounds on pavement and actually expects to make headway? And who makes up such stupid sayings?

Then again, maybe she was just in a bad mood.

Either way, Audrey had spent a chunk of the morning pounding the pavement, and she had nothing to show for it.

And to top it all off, her car wouldn't start. _Again._ Technically, she wasn't supposed to be driving per Julia's orders after the incident with Lady Cassandra the day before, but Audrey felt fine. Perhaps a little peeved but fine, otherwise. Doctors were too cautious anyway—and partners, well, they were the worst of all when it came to being overprotective.

When Nathan had dropped her off at the bed and breakfast earlier that morning, he had been apologetic. According to him, it was one thing for her to leave in her pajamas the night before but another thing entirely to be dropped off in broad daylight in those same pajamas for all the world to see.

Never mind that it really was innocent. They had stayed up late at his house, hashing through potential clues, leads, and information, until her eyelids had become so heavy, she was literally falling asleep on her feet. Nathan had shown her to his guestroom, and she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow. Waking up that morning, she was surprised by how well she had slept, especially when the night before had been such an emotional rollercoaster.

A part of her thought it was gallant, even if it was old-fashioned, that her partner worried about her reputation. Nevertheless, she couldn't resist poking the bear; and when she joked that the office pool takers would be busy patting themselves on the back and distributing money, she watched as his hands gripped the steering wheel of the Bronco more tightly.

"_There's a pool?" he asked her, his voice flat._

"_Really? You didn't know?"_

"_About when you and I will…" his voice trailed off, but she was pretty certain she heard him curse under his breath. "Who?"_

"_Seriously? You're asking _me_ for names? I'm lucky to remember my own. Come on. It's harmless."_

"_But we're partners," he told her pointedly._

And much of the amusement Audrey had felt over people's assumptions about them went out the window. Nathan wasn't worried about her personal reputation; he was concerned about their professional reputations.

And as much as she hated to admit it, he was right to be.

The 'pounding the pavement' speech wasn't the only thing she had heard multiple times at Quantico. It had been drilled into her at the academy that romantic entanglements with a partner agent were prohibited and worse, really, really stupid. While she was no longer with the FBI, she knew the same applied at the Haven PD, even as an unwritten rule, and she understood the reasons. Getting romantic with a partner only placed both individuals in greater danger and stood as an obstacle to doing the job at hand.

Not that she was planning to get romantic with Nathan Wuornos. It was a moot point. Yes, he was easy to look at. And funny. And smart. And trustworthy. And a good cook. Good grief, he was a fabulous cook. But this was Nathan. Her partner. Her friend.

And for as much as she didn't want their partnership to be compromised, she couldn't bear if their friendship was. When she allowed herself to think about it, she was amazed by how she had come to depend on him, and not just for backup, but for _everything_.

_Well, no, not everything_, she mentally amended. Contrary to the office pool, they were not lovers, nor were they going to be. She was pretty sure Nathan didn't look at her that way. Maybe Duke did, but not Nathan.

Still, that didn't stop her from reaching across the bench seat of the truck and taking hold of his right hand. Friends could hold hands, right? Handholding wasn't necessarily romantic. It was reassuring. It was contact, a reminder that each was there for the other. Not that they typically held hands. They weren't that type of friends, but after learning what she had the night before, she thought that maybe they should be.

Audrey was not a clingy person. Never had been. But there was something comforting about a touch. Warmth. Skin on skin. Tactile contact. And Nathan had none of the sensation of it for nearly three years. But she could give that to him in some minute way. It was a small gesture and the _friendly_ thing to do, she reasoned, even if it was self-serving on her part. There was no way she would say it to Nathan, but she actually liked the contact.

She still didn't quite know what to make of the fact that Nathan could feel her—actually feel _her_. She had so much to work through, but she didn't think she would be able to sort through it around him. Seeing Nathan, feeling like she should be reaching out to him, wanting to reach out to him, well, it complicated things, and her life was plenty complicated as it was.

In the truck that morning, Nathan had not pulled away from her touch, and instead, intertwined his fingers with hers, but he still looked so serious. Audrey had tried to smooth things over. In retrospect, she wasn't sure that she succeeded.

"_I didn't mean to freak you out. Look, I was mostly just joking about the pool thing. The thought of you and me…"_

_Nathan interrupted, looking down at their joined hands. His expression was passive, one she recognized as his cop face. Dang it. He was using the cop face on her. "I wasn't freaked out. Just caught off guard."_

"_Sounds familiar," Audrey admitted. _

_And it began to slip away, the passive expression. No, that wasn't right, Audrey realized. The expression was passive, but his eyes—his eyes were anything but. "You okay with…this? Me being able to feel you?"_

"_I wasn't freaked out," Audrey echoed. "Just caught off guard." She gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. _

_Nathan pulled his hand back, awkwardly resting it on the gearshift. "No driving today."_

"_I haven't forgotten."_

_The corners of his mouth quirked in the smallest hint of a smile. "Doesn't mean anything," he replied. "You haven't told me you won't be driving today."_

"_Look, I will make use of the fine array of sidewalks Haven has to offer. And maybe walk off some of those cupcakes in the process."_

"_You going to see Dave and Vince today?"_

"_Yeah. I mean, I think I should. They know things, Nathan, but exactly what…"_

"_You do realize there is this wonderful invention called a telephone, right?"_

"_Thanks for the heads up, funny man."_

_He hesitated momentarily._

"_What?" Audrey questioned._

"_It's been a rough few days for you—and then you losing consciousness yesterday…"_

_She interrupted, "You said it yourself. I was only out for about thirty seconds."_

"_Still, you should get some rest."_

"_I'll rest when I'm dead. If the Teagues are going to stonewall me, I want them to have to do it in person. Are you going to be at the station?"_

"_Yep," he replied. "Hard to make heads or tails out of that filing system. Could have Jimmy Hoffa's body stored in that archives room, and we'd never know."_

"_Maybe it's next to the missing Colorado Kid files," Audrey grumbled._

"_If you need a ride somewhere, give me a call."_

"_I'll be fine."_

"_You sure?"_

"_Stop worrying, Nathan."_

She wouldn't have admitted it to him, but she was now wishing she had picked up the phone and called the newspaper office first before heading over there. Neither of the Teague brothers had been there. The smart money would have been on calling them at their house, but she didn't do that either, walked there, and discovered they weren't at home. The paranoid side of her wondered if they caught wind she was looking for them and were purposely making themselves scarce. But would that be giving them (and the Haven rumor mill) too much credit?

So instead, she found herself leaving the Java House with two coffees in hand and resisting the magnetic pull to Rosemary's and the assortment of pastries that beckoned to her.

Maybe she couldn't get answers from Vince and Dave, but that didn't mean she was out of leads.

* * *

Thirty years, fifty pounds, and countless cases ago, Garland Wuornos had been idealistic. He loved police work. He was going to take on the world, one criminal at a time. Finding answers, putting away those who threatened the safety and security of others. He'd been sold on the idea that he could make a difference.

By the time Nathan was seven, much of that idealism had gone by the wayside. Some folks might have said it died when he lost his wife, that it was buried with her. No one wanted to mention the other elephant in the room, the Troubles. But then again, that was the problem with the whole damn town. No one wanted to face it because then it would be real.

Yes, the idealist in Garland had long since been replaced by the realist.

Garland had loved finding answers, but he suddenly didn't have them anymore. He'd seen it all, and about the only answer he did have was that he didn't want Nathan living the life of a cop. It was good work, honorable work, but could he handle it? The boy had always been so sensitive, taking everything to heart. And now he was a man of contradictions: a man who felt deeply but could not feel another's touch. A man who hurt but could not feel pain. Garland knew. Even back when he was a little guy, Garland knew what a burden his son would carry with him. He debated what he could do to help him. Still did. But how do you help someone who doesn't want it, or worse yet, just wants to spite you? And how do you help someone when you don't have the first clue how to make it better for him?

There were days that he thought Nathan's sole purpose for being in Haven, for being on his police force, was just to piss him off. And then there were days that Garland thought Nathan was there as a way to give him another chance, to help him make up for the mistakes of his past.

There'd certainly been plenty of mistakes. He was reminded of them each day when he saw Audrey pass through the station, so full of gumption, so full of questions.

And then there were days like today that he wasn't sure what the hell he was doing anymore, why he kept the secrets he did, why he hadn't retired to Florida with a fishing boat, a pretty girl, and bottomless cooler of brewskies.

And it all boiled down to this: he still had a job to do, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he abandoned his son to face the Troubles alone. It just didn't seem fair that doing his job—protecting his son and his town—meant alienating Nathan even more.

"You ever think that maybe I'm trying to protect Audrey? And you?"

"From what?"

Garland remained silent to his son's question. He couldn't tell Nathan the truth. His son was better off being disgusted with him. Less painful that way. Less danger, too.

"Right," Nathan muttered. "Of course you're not going to answer."

"I've been at this a long time, Nathan. Seen a lot of things you haven't."

"Really? So I guess the woman who can conjure weather based on her emotions," he looked upward, rattling off unusual cases as though from a mental list, "a pyromaniac kid who can cause fires with his mind, the mind reading card sharks—those were all nothing. Or the guy who can make people go crazy with his music—that was just for fun."

"This is just the beginning," Garland asserted. "It's going to get worse before it gets better. _If_ it gets better."

"You know a hell of a lot more than you're saying. About the Troubles. About Lucy. About Audrey." Nathan stood, leaning forward across his desk. "Audrey knows more than you think. You told her you'd help her, but you've done nothing. Shouldn't be surprised, though."

It took Garland every bit of doggedness he had not to wince as he heard the rancor in his son's voice. The worst part was that Nathan was right. Despite what he'd told Audrey when she came to Haven, he hadn't followed through with his promises to help her find out about Lucy. He wanted to, but he couldn't. Not when he realized how delicately woven the fabric of their town was and what they _all _had to lose.

"I'm doing you a favor. Audrey, too."

"Yeah. Thanks for that. Thank for nothing, Chief." Nathan gathered the files he had been looking through and pushed past the older man, heading out of the office.

Garland sighed loudly as Nathan slammed the door behind him. It took him back to Nathan's teenage years. Not that he blamed his son.

"Sorry, Nathan. If you knew…"

Pulling his cell phone from his belt, he fumbled with the device, cursing technology, until he found the number he was looking for in the call log. It had been awhile; he hadn't even realized how long. He pressed the send button and listened for ringing on the other end. When the other voice finally came on the line, he tried to push aside his regret. "Yep. It's Wuornos. Need your help with something."

* * *

"_Nathan, honey, you all right?" _Laverne's voice came over the walkie-talkie in the Bronco. The older dispatcher had always had a soft spot for him, Nathan knew. At one point, she had even tried to fix him up with her daughter, but that had been an unmitigated disaster.

Nathan pressed the button on the walkie-talkie in his truck. "Fine, Laverne." He had to stifle a groan. He hadn't exactly been subtle when he'd walked—okay, stormed—past her desk on the way from the archive room to the parking lot.

So much for professionalism.

Nathan prided himself on being not just an efficient detective but on being an exceptional one. When he'd graduated from college and gone to the police academy rather than law school, he knew that by being Garland Wuornos's son, he was going to have to be twice as good as the guy next to him to avoid talk of nepotism. Of course, if anyone had overheard the conversation he'd had with his father just now, he or she wouldn't be crying nepotism, that was for damn sure. Nevertheless, he'd worked his ass off, earning promotions, taking on extra cases, working his way from beat cop to detective.

For all the good that did. His dad still didn't trust him with whatever secrets he had, and Nathan was no closer to helping Audrey find out about her past.

_"You know, whatever it is, you've got a friendly ear here."_

"You and anyone else on this frequency," Nathan reminded her.

"_You know where to find me."_

"Thanks. Oh, and Laverne?"

"_Yes, honey?"_

"Who's running in the pool?"

A hearty chuckle came back over the walkie-talkie. _"My lips are sealed."_

Nathan leaned back on the truck bench and looked over to Audrey's side. In her place were the spark plugs from her car, which he had swiped that morning after she had gone into her room at the bed and breakfast. If he knew Audrey—and he was pretty sure he did—she had already discovered that her car wouldn't start. He probably should confess to her what he had done, but he doubted he could do it without looking smug, so maybe he'd be able to get them put back in without her seeing.

He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists. Nothing. He felt absolutely nothing.

So why could he feel her? And why did feeling her only make him crave more?

At least now she knew. No more secrets. He only wished he'd told her sooner. It could have saved him a whole lot of worry. He hadn't planned on telling her the night before when they were at his house, but by the time it was all said and done, there was no way he justify his continued silence.

"_You think all of this is connected to the Troubles?"_

_Audrey nodded slightly. "Lucy was here when the Troubles broke out last time. I'm here now, and surprise. Troubles."_

_Nathan's jaw clenched. And so it came back to this. And why wouldn't it? Their whole existence in Haven was tempered by the dark cloud that loomed overhead, the one that never fully let them forget that they were living on borrowed time until the next catastrophe. But Audrey couldn't really think she was somehow responsible, could she? Yet the slump of her shoulders and the creases on her forehead told him otherwise._

"_Audrey, I think we both know my condition doesn't have a medical explanation. I was… like this… before you came to town. You're not the cause of the Troubles. You help people."_

"_I don't know how to help them. Right now I can't even help myself."_

"_You've helped _me_." Nathan sheepishly moved his hand closer to Audrey's until the side of his hand grazed hers. Her hand was small, he noticed, as he slid his palm over hers, their fingers intertwining. "Your hand is cold." _

_The coolness of her skin met the warmth of his, dissipating. What didn't dissolve was the flood of sensation that passed from her hand to his. It was a simple touch, but he felt—good Lord, _he felt_—as though he had been given the world._

_Her eyes widened and her mouth formed an O before she finally uttered the words, "You could feel that?"_

_Her voice low and incredulous, but Nathan was grateful she didn't sound hurt or angry—yet. This wasn't exactly the way he wanted to tell her, but he couldn't let her go on thinking that the Troubles were her fault. Not after everything she'd done for the people here, not after everything she'd done for him. "I can feel your touch, Audrey."_

_A smile mingled with her look of shock. "You can feel again? Nathan, this is—"_

"_Just you," he interrupted._

"_Oh." Nathan could see emotions play across her features—the confusion, the sadness, and then something else he couldn't entirely decipher. "How long have you known?"_

"_A while. Since just after Jess left." _

_Jess Minion. She had intrigued him, but without Audrey's prompting he never would have pursued her. A man who can't feel—what kind of man is that? And for a time, it didn't matter to Jess that he wasn't like other men. In those moments when she kissed him and challenged his imagination, when she had disrobed and so had he, and he discovered that mind over matter wasn't just a saying, he had been grateful and felt—if not the physical sensation of contact—he felt brief snippets of happiness and relief that came with their foreplay. Even though they did not fully consummate the relationship because of a phone call from Audrey, Nathan was finally sure he wasn't totally broken, after all. Other than that pesky habit of attracting danger and trouble. _

_Jess, who had seemed so strong, fled, and he'd been consoled by Audrey, his friend. And the tiny kiss Audrey had pressed to his cheek felt more potent than anything he had ever known. It didn't challenge his imagination, or force him to think mind over matter. It was like some long buried part of him had come alive again in that fleeting moment._

"_Seriously? That long? Forget seeing your house being a big deal. This is a _big _freaking deal." With each word she spoke, the pitch of her voice shot up._

_Nathan cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "I should've said something sooner."_

"_Um, yeah, you should've. I just can't believe I didn't see it! Not much of a detective, am I? Guess I can't lord the FBI Academy over you anymore," Audrey groaned, her tone ironic._

"_Local intel beats eye in the sky anytime." Nathan's weak joke fell on deaf ears as Audrey struggled to process the information._

_She looked down to their joined hands and lifted them, examining his fingers, his palm, his wrist. It was enough to make Nathan wonder what she was looking for. Maybe an 'on' or 'off' switch? "The high fives, the handshakes. All the signs were there." _

"_I'm sorry."_

"_No, I am. I wish—I wish you could feel more than me." Her last words came out in a rush._

_Nathan felt guilty, albeit it, a different type of guilt. He had the impression she was sad for him, as though his ability to feel her but not others was somehow her fault or a letdown, and that was the last thing he wanted her to feel. If she knew how much he wanted to explore the sensations, how much he longed for her to close the distance between them, how he ached to feel the warmth of her breath on his neck, how seeing her in that black tank top had made him want to explore her curves with his hands and with his lips, he doubted she would be feeling quite as bad for him. No sense in freaking her out. He could live without feeling; he'd done it for years. What he wasn't sure of was how he'd live without her friendship if he blew it._

"_For a guy who couldn't feel anything, it's not a bad trade off."_

_She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes. "Why didn't you say something?"_

_Fear mostly. What if is changed everything? What if it didn't change anything? What if she decided he wasn't worth the trouble, the way Jess had? _No_, he silently chastised himself, _Audrey is not like Jess_. And so he laid it on the line, as honestly as he could without overstepping the said imaginary line. "I didn't know what to make of it. Still don't."_

"_What does it feel like?" She ran her thumb along the palm of his hand, tracing tiny circles._

_Nathan nearly gasped but caught himself, the practice of hiding his reactions for the last couple of months most definitely coming in handy. "It feels…good."_

_Audrey tilted her head, her eyes and curve of her mouth letting him know she was amused. Nathan chewed slightly on his bottom lip. From her reaction, maybe he wasn't that good at hiding his reaction. She knew he was holding back, and he waited for her to bust him on it. Silence filled the air for a few seconds until she cracked a smile, and he found himself shaking his head and doing the same. _

"_You took this better than I thought you would."_

"_What did you think I was going to do, Nathan?"_

"_For starters, I thought you'd be mad that I kept something this big from you."_

"_Let's face it. You don't exactly have the monopoly on secrets." She lightened her grip on his hand, running her smaller fingers along his long, slender ones as she did, before finally letting her hand drop._

_Nathan felt the loss of her touch immediately. "True."_

"_You don't owe me anything, but I'm really glad you told me." _

"_You're my friend, and I've owed you the truth for awhile. I just…I wanted you to see why I know you're not the cause of the Troubles."_

_Audrey nodded, and Nathan could see her eyes take on a far away look. "I hope you're right. But maybe this proves my connection even more to Lucy."_

"_We'll get it figured out. I _promise_ you that."_

"_Nathan, if Lucy really did the things Lady Cassandra said she did, I wonder if…I wonder if I could make the Troubles go away. If I can make your affliction go away." She stopped, grimaced, and rolled her eyes. "That sounded narcissistic. Hello, delusions of grandeur, meet Audrey Parker."_

"_No," Nathan corrected, "it sounded kind."_

_Audrey pushed up the sleeves of the too-long sweatshirt she wore. "I really do want to make you feel again, Nathan. Feel everything, not just me."_

_He paused, as though considering her words. "Yeah. That would be all right with me." _

_His nonchalant tone brought a feeble smile from her. "So when I kissed you on the cheek, that felt..."_

"_Good." Nathan watched her as she seemed to be trying to recall the different times they had touched._

"_When we hugged a few minutes ago…"_

"_Good also."_

"_When you lifted my foot to look at the scar, that was good, too?"_

"_No, that was orgasmic," he replied matter-of-factly. Audrey's eyes widened, and Nathan found himself chuckling at her reaction. "Orgasmic for a person with a foot fetish. You're so easy sometimes."_

"_Hey, at least I didn't look down to verify." She cringed as soon as the words came out of her mouth. "Wow. Okay. On that note…"_

_The flush of color on her cheeks had him wondering if he had turned a shade of pink, too. "Agreed. Let's change the subject."_

_With a slight nod, Audrey said, "Right. So now that I've had my quota of meltdowns, let's see if we can get some work done." _

Nathan had been impressed by Audrey, how she was able to put aside her fears over possibly being Lucy and all the implications that went along with it, as they started taking notes on what they knew, what they didn't know, and discussing their game plan. It was like she had mostly divorced herself from the situation; only periodically did he see worry cross her features.

Her ability to step back and see the bigger picture was what made her great at her job.

And maybe she was right.

Maybe she _could_ fix him.

The crackling sound of the walkie-talkie filled the cab of the truck once again. _"Nathan, honey?"_

He pressed the button on the side of his walkie. "Right here, Laverne."

"_Could you head out to Brand House? Got reports of something strange."_

Something strange at Brand House? So much for his day off. But then again, the one thing Nathan had learned was that the Troubles didn't take days off.

"On my way."

* * *

_to be continued..._


	7. Quid Pro Quo

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _Haven_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to all those who keep reading. As you have probably figured out, this is going to be a long story. I guess that fits because I am rather long-winded. ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review. It means a lot to me, _and_ it makes the plot bunnies run faster.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: "Quid Pro Quo"**

Living in a small town like Haven, pretty much _everyone_ had a reputation of some sort. Duke Crocker was no exception. Some said he was a crook. Others viewed him as more of a charming rogue and appreciated his skill in getting them certain items, no questions asked. Yet most people considered him lucky. Depending on the type of day he was having, he might agree _or_ he might disagree with the notion of luck altogether.

On this particular morning, he felt anything but lucky, blessed, or a reasonable facsimile of contentment. His insurance company wasn't being understanding of the crack in the hull of his boat that had mysteriously appeared around the same time that the bungling duo of Ezra and Tobias tried to steal a certain box from his care that belonged to one of his clients—or the bullet holes that had recently found their way within the interior of his craft.

To add further insult to injury, his meeting with Ephraim Brand had been postponed again—and Duke privately doubted whether he would ever see the recluse for what promised to be the opportunity of a lifetime, if he was willing to take a few risks.

_No guts, no glory._

It wasn't exactly one of Buddha's tenets, but then again, Duke wasn't feeling enlightened at the moment. Nope. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, but if he was going to be honest with himself, it had nothing to do with boats or businessmen and had everything to do with a certain icy blonde.

_He who loves fifty people has fifty woes; he who loves no one has no woes._

Duke's eyes fell on the carefully printed quote from a long-ago eaten fortune cookie that was affixed to the front of his refrigerator. He never got like this—going for beer so early in the day, ready to snarl at the stupidest things, getting introspective over a woman of all things. Shows what love can do to a person. Makes them weak.

Not that he would say he loved Audrey Parker. Far from it. He was intrigued by her. Attracted to her. He wasn't kidding when he said she had the finest ass in town. He was, of course, a great judge of such things, having known his fair share of women.

But Audrey wasn't exactly like other women. One, she didn't have any concept of just how hot she was. Cop or no cop, Duke had to appreciate the way that 9 mm looked holstered to her hip and the way her hips swayed as she walked, perfectly rounded, feminine, and dangerous.

Two, for as sexy as she was, she was just as intelligent. Watching Audrey work, putting together pieces of a puzzle, had to be the single, most tantalizing thing he'd ever witnessed. And when she was trying to figure him out as she sometimes did—well, he'd be lying if he denied that he enjoyed the attention.

And three, perhaps most significant, he hadn't caught her—yet.

Though with the way things were going, he wasn't sure he ever would catch her. Normally, he'd just chalk it up as her loss, but for as nonchalant as he wished he could be when it came to Audrey, he could feel that mask of indifference slip away, no matter how tightly he grasped onto it. His interest had been piqued when he'd fished her out of the water and she'd repaid him by pulling a gun on him, but he'd been the one hooked when she assured him she would figure out what had killed his friend Geoff—and she had kept her promise.

He couldn't quite reel her in, though. As soon as he thought he was making progress, something always happened. There was work—his and hers both—and neither was too thrilled over the other's career choices. Other people—good ol' Nathan was her freaking shadow. Just because Nathan couldn't feel her, that didn't mean that no one else should. But for some reason, Audrey cared about what Nathan thought, and it was no secret that Nathan didn't think much of him. And then there was Audrey herself. She was confident in some ways, skittish in others, and always just out of reach.

Heading topside with a bottle of Belgian lager in hand, he settled onto a cushioned chair on deck, propped up his feet, and reached for a newspaper.

"I was hoping I'd run into you." The voice didn't sound particularly filled with hope or much emotion of any kind. Icy.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, Duke looked up and silently marveled at the coincidence, fate, or whatever the hell someone wanted to call the fact that Audrey Parker stood on the deck holding a coffee in each hand. "Imagine that. Running into me on my own boat. What are the chances?" His tone was light, but the tension he felt seeped through.

She passed one of the coffee containers to him. "Kona. Black. Had to walk over here, so I hope it's still warm. Though if I'd've realized you were going to be grumpy, I would've sprung for some cupcakes, too."

He tilted his head in a show of gratitude. "A little early for cupcakes, isn't it?"

"A little early for beer, too." She pushed against his long legs, knocking his feet off his footstool, and sat on it facing him. "And a little cold."

"It's five o'clock…somewhere. As for the temperature, there's no such thing as too cold for a good beer."

Pulling the leather jacket she wore more tightly around her frame, Audrey's eyes fell on the bottle. "And you don't keep the cheap stuff around, do you?"

"A man's got to drink." He leaned forward in his chair, his dark eyes zeroing on her. "Course, we could always go below deck, get you warmed up." Said in a different tone, his words could have come across as polite, chivalrous even. However, the intensity of his gaze, coupled with the huskiness of his voice left no doubt what he was offering—and it wasn't just the warmth of the hearth on a cool, autumn day.

And so it came back to this. Normally she enjoyed the casually choreographed flirtation they shared, but after everything that had happened the previous night, everything she'd discovered, the mildly overt suggestion had her backpedaling. "I'll learn to deal with the weather," Audrey replied. "Besides, I thought you didn't associate with cops."

"I said I didn't _talk_ to cops. We don't have to talk, you know."

"Actually, we do."

"Dammit. And you had been doing _such_ a good job of not putting out the cop vibe, you know? So what favor do you need today, Officer Parker?"

"What makes you think I'm here for a favor?" Audrey asked before taking a sip of her coffee in hopes of hiding her expression. Was she that transparent?

"Well, you've as much told me you're not here for…" he paused, looking at her meaningfully, and smiled as her expression questioned how blunt he would be. "…social reasons. Besides, that's the only time you come around lately. When you want something."

Audrey would have liked to protest Duke's statement, but she couldn't form the words. Not when he was dead on accurate. How often had she dragged him into whatever case she and Nathan were working on? Though in her defense, there had been a few times that their cases took them right through Duke's proverbial front door. "Are you upset because I didn't stop by the Gull last night?"

"Please. It's not a big deal. It never is with us, right?"

"Duke…"

"Audrey…" he mimicked.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just—some things came up, but in my defense, I never said I would be there."

"Ah yes. The ubiquitous 'some things.' Tell me, were you saving the world again? Or does this have anything to do with whatever's had you ready to jump out of your skin for the last week?" Duke watched the hesitation cross Audrey's features. Exhaling loudly, he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "Right."

Audrey exhaled. "Look, I'm not good at this … sharing … thingy. Can we leave it at that? I really do need to talk to you."

"Fine. I like to consider myself a fair man. A fair businessman, actually. You're here for a reason. I'm guessing it's information, though I have to tell you, you're being far less brazen than usual. Kind of makes all this painfully awkward. So here's the deal. If you want information from me, I want something in return."

"Extortion?" she asked incredulously, her eyes narrowing.

"_Quid pro quo_. I'd never make you do something you don't want to do, Audrey."

She tilted her head, appraising him. "You know, I can just have you brought into the station for questioning."

"No," he replied smiling, "you can't. See, if this were official police business, you would've waved that badge around already. This is personal."

"You're right. This is personal." Her fingers went to the necklace she wore, and she felt for the clasp. Unfastening it, she held it in the palm of her hand, the delicate blue stone framed by ornate scrollwork. But the feature that captured her the most was the etched LR on the back of the jewelry.

Duke recognized it immediately. "You've been wearing it."

"It's the one tangible thing I have of Lucy's." Audrey swallowed hard. It was disconcerting to speak of Lucy, and it begged the question she had been trying to cast aside all morning: was she speaking of herself? She thought so, but there was such a divide, it was like discussing a stranger. "And it came from you. You knew her."

Sincerity replaced Duke's cavalier demeanor. "But I don't remember her well. Not exactly. It's mostly just impressions."

Audrey nodded. "I know, but there are some other things I'm hoping you might remember. Things about Lucy, yes…and other things that happened, too, around that time. Even if you believe it's not an important detail, I think you might really be able to help me. So what do you want in return?"

Looking at her wide blue eyes, Duke knew without a doubt that he was a sucker. But knowing it and doing something about it were two entirely different beasts. A considerable amount of his success came from being able to read people and go in for the metaphorical kill. Yet when he saw the vulnerability in her, which floored him since she was always so badass in her movements and attitude, he couldn't make himself lord it over her. So instead, he lifted his cup. "Coffee. Kona. And since you've done your part, I owe you, don't I? _Quid pro quo_."

Her expression softened. "You're a good guy, Duke."

He scoffed. "Keep your voice down. Wouldn't want anyone to hear you say that."

Audrey took a deep breath and still found herself fidgeting with the necklace. "You were the little boy with Lucy when the Colorado Kid's body was discovered…"

Duke's brows furrowed. "I really don't remember it. I know I was there. Proof's in the photo, right? But it's like I've got this mental block."

"Do you remember seeing Lucy at other times?"

"Vaguely." Duke's lips curled into a smile. "I don't remember much, but I do remember thinking she was really pretty."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she replied with a roll of her eyes, though her voice held a hint of amusement.

"Who said anything about you?" Duke's teasing smile faded. "Lucy seemed …sad. I guess a lot of people were around that time."

"The Troubles?"

"Yeah. Among other things."

"Do you know what made her sad? Was she related to anyone? Did she spend time…?" Her questions tumbled out one after another.

"Sorry, Audrey. I was, like, six or seven years old. I wasn't her social secretary. And you know, the Troubles, well, they…" his voice trailed off.

"Sucked."

"Yeah. Still do."

"So why did she give you the necklace?" Audrey asked as she ran her finger over the engraving. She could faintly feel the nicks in the silver around the etched LR.

"Obviously it was because of how absolutely adorable I was. Even then, women couldn't res…"

"Duke," came the warning tone.

"Okay, seriously. I don't know why she gave it to me. I'm sure at the time I would've preferred a football or something. Maybe ice skates."

Audrey nearly snorted. "Ice skates? Really?"

Duke straightened the collar of the denim overshirt he wore. "For ice hockey. Not figure skating."

"Did she say anything when she gave it to you?"

Duke pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, as though to push past the barrier that kept those memories locked tightly. "She told me she was going away. That I should keep it safe for her but that I would know what to do with it when the time came."

Audrey squeezed her eyes shut and tried to imagine—conjure even—the events Duke recounted. But she felt so disconnected, like the only thing that linked her and Lucy at that moment was that they both knew Duke, albeit in very different ways.

But what was the connection between Lucy and Duke? Why were his memories so vague? Was it just the passing of time that challenged his recollections, or was there something else at play? Vanessa Stanley had mentioned her own lack of memory for the events related to the Colorado Kid, as well, before she died. It hardly seemed coincidental. But who or what could make multiple people forget an event? And why would Lucy ask Duke to keep a necklace for her? Who was he to Lucy?

Lady Cassandra had told her of a time when Lucy saved a little boy. Was _that_ the connection? Was Duke that little boy?

"This is going to sound strange, but did you ever have an accident?"

"An accident? I stopped having those by the time I was two-and-a-half. Okay, three." Seeing the look of exasperation on her face, he amended his response. "Look, I had the same scrapes that any other kid did. Driving the riding lawnmower into the garage door and having to get stitches. Breaking my nose. You know, the usual."

"Did you ever almost drown?"

"You think I'd live on a boat if I had?"

"Do you know of anyone around your age who did?"

Duke shook his head. "No, and I think I would've known about it. Haven's not that big of a place." He paused and turned, casting his eyes on the choppy water. "There've been a few people through the years. Perils of living in a coastal town. But no one my age. The worst was Holly Wuornos. That—" he broke off, collecting his thoughts. "That was hard. It's been a lot of years, but I still think about her sometimes."

_Nathan's mom_. Audrey thought back to the smiling image she had seen on Nathan's mantle the night before. Nathan had opened up to her about his mom, what she had meant to him, but she couldn't help but still be curious. Her loss had shaped Nathan, and from the sounds of it, Duke had been affected, as well. "You knew her?"

"I spent a lot of time at the Wuornos house when I was little."

"You and Nathan were friends?" Audrey could not hide her disbelief.

"Used to be." Duke paused, and for a moment, Audrey thought he might open up about whatever it was that had happened to create the rift between them, but instead, he continued. "I wouldn't admit this to just anyone, and if you repeat it, I will deny it. _Convincingly_. I used to be so jealous of Nathan. My own mom, well, who knows where she was or even where she is now. But Ms. Holly, I used to wish she were my mom, too. She picked me up after school everyday. Took me home with her and Nathan until my dad got off work at the shipyard. There were days that I didn't want to leave."

"I'm sorry, Duke."

"Yeah, well, what's worse to lose? A mom who doesn't give a damn or a mom who's perfect?"

_Or to never know your mom at all_, Audrey silently added.

"It really is too bad for Nathan. If his mom hadn't died, maybe he would actually have more personality than a piece of cardboard."

"Duke…" Audrey warned.

"Come on, you know this good behavior thing only goes so far."

"He's my friend."

"And so am I," Duke reminded her.

Audrey could spend time quibbling with him over his comments about Nathan, but she was fairly certain she would never change his mind where her partner was concerned. Likewise, she doubted she would ever hear Nathan singing Duke's praises, either, so she decided to let it rest. "So you're sure there wasn't a kid who drowned or nearly drowned?"

"Doesn't even ring a bell. Why are you even asking?"

"I met someone yesterday at the Haven Fall Fun Fest, a fortune teller named Lady Cassandra."

"There's a nice prophetic name for you. Didn't really take you for the fortune teller type, but then again, I didn't take you for the kissing booth type, either."

"I'm not. On both accounts," she added. "But when Lady Cassandra saw me, she thought I was Lucy."

"She knew Lucy?" Duke asked, his posture straightening.

"Not well, but yeah. Nathan and I talked with her, and she knew about things that happened when Lucy was in Haven, amazing things. She said Lucy saved a little boy who had drowned, among other things."

"You mean saved a little boy who was drowning?" Duke asked, looking at her sideways in confusion.

Audrey chewed on her lip reflexively before responding. "No, I mean the little boy drowned, and Lucy brought him back…"

"You jerking my chain?"

"I'm serious," she replied earnestly.

"Come on. People don't get brought back to life, Audrey."

"You and I have both seen some pretty impossible things here."

Duke took a deep breath. He couldn't argue with her point, but even weirdness had to draw a line somewhere. "You trying to verify her story?"

Audrey nodded. "Nathan was going to pull some files at the station…"

"And if you find out Lucy saved some kid, then what? What do you get out of any of this?"

"Same thing I've wanted since I got here. Answers."

"And if you don't like what you find out?"

"Then I'll deal with it."

"I hope you get the answers you want."

"So do I." She rose to her feet, and Duke followed suit. "Listen, thanks, Duke. For everything."

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Duke shrugged. "What can I say? I'm pretty awesome."

"You have your moments." She brushed past him and began to head toward the dock but slowed her movements. "One last question. Out of curiosity, what were you really going to ask for in return for information?"

"What? You think coffee wasn't a fair trade?"

"Humor me."

"Dinner for two. No cancellations. No running off to save the world."

"What changed your mind?"

"I realized how unfair it was. I mean, it was a win-win for you," Duke explained holding out a hand indicating her. "You'd use me for information and get a free meal. Couldn't really see what was in it for me."

Audrey's right eyebrow shot up and a broad smile spread across her features. "Guess we'll never know."

With that, she climbed down the ladder onto the dock.

* * *

_to be continued..._


	8. A Brand New Trouble

**A/N: **It's back! Between the busy holidays and feeling a bit discouraged with this story, I think I've managed to snap myself out of it. I hope the result was worth the wait. For those of you still reading, I really do appreciate it. I'd love to know what you all think, from theories to critiques.

Because it has been awhile, I should probably recap where we left our characters.

**Previously in **_**Phoenix Rising**_**:** After a rather frightening experience with a fortuneteller, Audrey was left with more questions about herself. Over a cooked meal at Nathan's house, the two partners grew closer. Audrey confided to Nathan her belief that she is Lucy Ripley, and he vowed to help her discover more about her past. When Audrey expressed her fears that she was the cause of the Troubles, Nathan gave her reason to believe she is not the culprit and, instead, makes life better for those around her. She's definitely made his life better; she's the only one he can feel.

On a rare day off from work, our detectives found themselves doing what they always do: investigating. Nathan spent time scouring through old case files, trying to find clues to events Lady Cassandra mentioned before her mysterious death. However, he found his attempts fruitless when he realized the Chief was doing what he could to block Nathan's efforts.

Likewise, Audrey hoped to gain the assistance of the Teagues Brothers, but they were nowhere to be found. She did, however, find Duke, and while he couldn't tell her anything about a little boy whose life Lucy saved, he did reveal more to her about his connection to Lucy, among other things.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: "A Brand New Trouble"**

Brand House was a Haven landmark. Nestled high on Nákúset Summit, the sprawling property featured a stone manor house that looked like it had been plucked straight from Europe, with its jutting gables and elaborate masonry. Stables and a several-acre grove of maple trees completed the estate. To the casual observer, the place would have seemed picturesque, stunning even, with its view of the Maine coastline and Atlantic waters, as well as its perfectly landscaped gardens. But Nathan Wuornos preferred someplace more prosaic and less pretentious.

Besides, Brand House gave him the creeps. Always had. He had been there on occasion, but he generally kept his distance, as did most people in Haven.

So when Laverne radioed him with word that something strange was going on at Brand House, his first thought was this was Laverne's way of getting him away from the chief before the two came to blows.

That passed fairly swiftly, followed by his second thought of, _"Something strange at Brand House? What the hell's new?"_ Nathan figured every town had a place steeped in history and folklore, and Haven was no exception. When he was a kid, he had heard stories of the house, how it was a meeting place for Satan's minions. Still others talked about how the estate was haunted by massacred Mi'kmaqs and that in those moments between darkness and light, their spirits walked the grounds.

Of course, those were all just stories, and he didn't put any stock in them, not when he had seen real people do some extraordinary things. Nevertheless, he couldn't really say he was a fan of the place.

Nathan's innate reaction wasn't logical in the least, and he was determined it wouldn't interfere with his ability to do his job, but as he closed the door of the blue Bronco, he definitely had a sense that something wasn't right.

Maybe it was the air itself.

He thought the air had a distinctly different scent up there. It was a combination of smells that he immediately recognized—smoke billowing from the chimneys, a coppery odor that hung in the air, the crispness of recently fallen leaves—and something else, something sickeningly sweet he couldn't readily identify.

"Nathan Wuornos!" A balding man in his early thirties approached Nathan. He extended his hand, caught himself, and then pulled it back. "Sorry about that."

"Been awhile, Charlie." Nathan inclined his head as a greeting instead of accepting the handshake. He had recognized Charlie Thornhill immediately. Sure the guy had lost some of the hair on top of his head, but he still had the same thick, bushy eyebrows, which when he frowned nearly formed a unibrow. The two had gone to grade school and high school together, were friendly acquaintances, but never ran in the same social circles back then or now, for that matter.

Like pretty much everyone else in Haven, Charlie knew of Nathan's affliction, but unlike a number of their classmates, it never seemed to be an issue for him. From an early age, Charlie had spent his free time working in a makeshift greenhouse in his parents' backyard. His weirdness quotient did not exactly parallel Nathan's own, but Charlie had never had much time for social posturing at school, always so intent on getting back to his plants, as Nathan recalled. After high school, Nathan had gone to UMaine, while Charlie had gone to the University of Wisconsin-Madison studying horticulture and dendrology. It had only been in the last two or three years that Charlie had returned to Haven.

"It _has_ been awhile, Nathan. Place keeps me busy up here. Easier to deal with trees than people sometimes."

_Didn't Nathan know_. "True."

"Heard you have a partner now. FBI. Bet your dad just loves having the Feds underfoot."

_Audrey._

Nathan still remembered how she had gone toe-to-toe with the chief when she first came to town, as well as her admission that she wanted to solve the case involving the mysterious death of Jonas Lester mostly to piss him off. Yep, Nathan had already been impressed by her extensive use of sarcasm and eye for detail, but she made him a believer when she told him her motivation for solving that particular mystery.

In a brief time, the chief had come to respect her and had even gone so far as to promise to help her uncover her past, but when it came down to actually doing something that might help her, he put up roadblocks instead. The whole thing still had him flummoxed. All Nathan knew was that Audrey deserved better.

The familiar anger his father elicited in him was beginning to build again. Nathan forced himself to push it aside. "Used to be FBI. Left the Bureau. Now she's Haven PD."

"Oh, traded in the big lake for the small pond. I can relate."

Nathan glanced up at the large stone manor house. "Don't know. Looks pretty big to me."

"So where is she? Your new partner, I mean?"

Nathan couldn't see calling Audrey on a rare day off for her—not when she had her own investigations—without cause. And why all the questions about Audrey? Simple curiosity? Rumor mill? Considering that Laverne had him out there on _his_ day off because of a call concerning something strange happening at Brand House, there was too much small talk and not enough information to suit him. "You having a problem out here, Charlie?"

"You could say that. Let me show you."

The two followed a cobblestone path toward the edge of the manicured yard that led to the maple grove. The stone path stopped on the leaf-laden lawn of the grove, which in some areas had been beaten down to form what appeared to be a continuation of the footpath. "This is my pride and joy. These trees produce the sap for the best maple syrup in Maine, if I do say so myself."

Nathan had used Brand Farm Syrup before on his pancakes; he had to admit that it was good. But actually being out there amidst the trees, he was struck by how different the grove seemed than he expected. He had seen the grove before from below, though from the water there wasn't that much to observe. The cliff was rocky, a sheer climb. Maples certainly grew in the area, but the terrain and proximity to the water seemed inhospitable.

"Didn't realize maple trees could grow so near the ocean."

Chalk it up to another Haven oddity. What struck Nathan even more so than that, though, was the quiet of the place. No birds. No squirrels. No signs of movement, not even the wind.

The smell of their surroundings, however, seemed even more pungent in the grove than it had near the manor house, filling Nathan's sensitive nostrils: plant matter, damp fallen leaves that were beginning to decompose, combined with a hint of rust or copper.

Nathan wrinkled his nose, but Charlie seemed oblivious to the odor, as he spoke. "Typically they don't. Their roots can be sensitive to the salt," Charlie explained. "The Brand maples are an exception. To be honest, I'm not sure if it's the variety of maple or our elevation in relation to the water. We are fairly high up here on the Nákúset Summit, after all."

"So what happened?"

"I came out here to remove the taps. When I did, the tree started to ooze."

From what little Nathan knew of tapping trees, some sap could be left in the fibers of the tree but just not be enough to flow through the tap's spout. "Not entirely unusual, is it?"

"The temperature has been below 40 degrees. Maple trees don't ooze sap this time of year. Too cold."

"But they are oozing," Nathan confirmed, seeing a dark streak beneath the bored hole of the tree closest to them. "And this is important because…?"

"It's not sap."

"Could've led with that." Nathan walked closer to the tree, put on a pair of latex gloves he had removed from his pocket, and ran his finger along the hole. When he drew it back, he frowned. Dark, reddish-brown flakes covered his fingertip. The tree was no longer oozing, but the remnants of the substance reminded him of something else, something _impossible_.

"This is bad," Charlie commented nervously seeing Nathan's grim expression.

Nathan said nothing, walking instead to another tree whose tap had not been removed.

Charlie handed him a pair of pliers. Nathan secured the tool to the tap and extracted it, leaving a small hole in the trunk.

And just as the other tree had evidently done earlier, it, too, began to ooze. Nathan once again ran his gloved finger along the hole in the trunk, this time capturing the substance in its liquid form. He pulled back his finger and saw clearly what had Charlie alarmed. His finger was covered in a bright red liquid.

Lifting the finger nearer to his nose, Nathan sniffed the liquid. It distinctly smelled of copper.

"Blood."

* * *

"Thanks for the ride, Stan."

"My pleasure, Audrey." The officer behind the wheel of the squad car smiled, the look of surprise still on his features as Nathan walked to the driver's side of the vehicle and handed him a bagged, tagged vial of red liquid.

"The sample," Nathan commented.

"I'll get it to the lab ASAP, Nathan." Stan circled around the front drive of Brand House, leaving Audrey and Nathan in the driveway.

"Amazing," Nathan commented, his calm tone a contrast to his word choice.

"What? Bleeding trees?" Audrey asked pushing her hands in the pockets of the jacket she wore.

"That, and you got Stan's name right."

"See? I do have people who will give me a ride." Audrey looked pleased with herself, Nathan thought, so much that he didn't have the heart to remind her that he was the one who called in the favor from Stan to give her the ride. Audrey turned to look to Charlie. "Audrey Parker."

The man's gaze was on Audrey, but it took him a minute to process her introduction. "Charlie Thornhill," he finally stammered.

Audrey tilted her head, appraising the grove. "So do you really have bleeding trees?"

"I…I think so."

"Collected a sample," Nathan explained. "We'll have the lab analyze. Verify."

"I'd like to see this," Audrey replied, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

"Thought you would."

The three walked along the path that, by now, had become familiar to Nathan. Audrey, however, found herself trying to take in every detail. When she and Stan had first arrived on the estate, it had been difficult to peel her eyes off the house. But what was a big, gorgeous mansion in comparison to bleeding trees, right? And so she had forced herself to focus on the task at hand. However, once they started toward the grove, Audrey found it easier to concentrate. Quite simply, the treed acreage was lovely, a contradiction of grandeur and simplicity. Perched atop the cliff and with the ocean as their backdrop, she was once again reminded of the beauty that surrounded them in Haven, beauty that she often took for granted.

They entered the grove, stopping at a tree still containing a tap. "Have they all bled?" Audrey asked.

"Every tap I've taken out today, yes. And, of course, the one Nathan took out."

Audrey moved closer to the tree, placing her hands along the trunk and leaning closer to examine the small metal spout. "Okay. Run by me how the tap works."

"It's pretty simple, really," Charlie began. "You drill a hole in a maple tree, preferably sugar maple, but red maples will do. It has to be the right season. Temperatures should be consistently moderate to warm so that the sap is flowing. You tap a spout into the hole, but you have to be careful not to split the wood. Then you hang a bucket on the spout to collect the sap, which can them be boiled down to make syrup. Later, after the season is over, you remove the tap, allowing the tree to store energy for the winter. In the spring, you can tap again. Great renewable resource."

Audrey looked over at Nathan who was still on the leaved, makeshift path. "So, bleeding maple trees. Does this at all make that pancake craving of yours subside?" she teased.

"Strangely, no."

Audrey smiled, though her smile quickly faded when she looked at Charlie's face, which had gone pallid. _Probably not a good idea to gross out the person you're trying to help_, she decided.

"So the question we should ask ourselves is what would make a tree bleed." Audrey shook her head slightly, the statement sounding strange to her as it came out of her mouth. She never expected those words would come out in the same sentence. Then again, over the last few months there had been more than one instance when she had uttered things she never thought she would say.

"Well, there is the hole," Nathan pointed out wryly.

"There is that." She crossed her arms, quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Trees have a root system. Could the trees draw the liquid from the ground somehow?"

"What? From our great blood reservoir?" Charlie scoffed. "The trees are dormant right now. In the fall, they prepare for the winter. They store up starches and…."

"Audrey, come look at this." Nathan had moved about fifteen feet away and was looking down at the ground. She walked toward him, stopping by his side. A scraggly crack extended near the base of one of the maple trees and beyond, about nine feet long, he estimated, and a foot across at its widest point. "It's new in just the last few minutes."

"Nathan's right. That wasn't here before," Charlie commented, sounding dumbfounded.

Nathan moved closer, peering in the crack. "Definitely no blood in there. Can see plenty of roots though. Smells…sweet."

"I can't smell anything but leaves," Audrey replied absently, her mind racing in a million directions at once.

Another crack. What was it with Haven and those cracks? When she had first arrived in town, Nathan had told her it was shifting sandstone, but that didn't explain the crack on Duke's boat. No, somehow the crack had to be related to the craziness going on in Haven. But what did a crack have to do with bleeding trees?

When Charlie came closer to the crack the two detectives were examining, his reaction was immediate. "Look at those roots! My poor trees!" he lamented.

"Yeah. Your trees are bleeding," Audrey commented. "I don't think this crack is your biggest problem."

"It's not," Charlie conceded. "Mr. Brand is going to be very unhappy."

"Didn't think he came around much anymore," Nathan replied.

"He's back," Charlie explained. "And just in time for all this mess."

"I take it it's Mr. Brand as in Brand House?" Audrey surmised.

"His ancestors were among the first European settlers here," Charlie explained.

"And the Brands never let anyone forget," Nathan added, his voice low so that only Audrey could hear. "Charlie, have you seen any signs of trespassers?"

"Impossible. This place is a fortress," Charlie insisted.

"How about the people who work here? Could this be an elaborate hoax? Or maybe a practical joke?" Audrey asked.

"There's no fraud here, Ms. Parker," Charlie responded tersely. Composing himself, he went on. "It's fall. We've been operating at a reduced capacity. There's just myself and Mrs. Harrington, the housekeeper."

"Sally Harrington?" Nathan asked.

"Yes. And Mr. Brand's manservant, Barrymore."

Audrey looked to Nathan and mouthed, '_Manservant?'_

"Any other strange occurrences before now?" Nathan asked.

Charlie shook his head. "No. Things have been calm. The only excitement we've had—other than, _you know_—was Mr. Brand's arrival, but that's not strange. It _is_ his place, after all."

But there was wistfulness in his tone and expression that was not lost on Audrey, for in some minor way, she could relate. Despite the oddities going on around them, the place captivated her. Why in all the months she'd been in Haven had she never been up there?

She nodded. "Well, Mr. Brand has a pretty spectacular place."

* * *

"So what do you make of Charlie Thornhill? Think he'd stage this?" Audrey leaned against the side of the blue Bronco looking up at the stone manor house. The two partners were left alone to discuss the case while Charlie had gone inside the house to consult with the housekeeper and retrieve a list composed of each person who had been to the estate in the last week.

"Motive?"

"Big place like this? He practically had it to himself. Did you catch that look on his face? It was like he'd come to think of this place as his own. Kind of inconvenient when the owner comes back, right?"

Nathan considered Audrey's theory. "I've known Charlie Thornhill most my life. Can't see him trying to spook Ephraim Brand. Besides, from what I know of Brand, he's not the type to be intimidated."

Audrey furrowed her brows. "Maybe he's not doing it on purpose. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it."

"We're assuming that it's a someone who is making those trees bleed. And we're assuming it actually is blood."

"Right. No proof. _Yet_. So any connection between the crack and the allegedly bleeding trees?"

"We've seen cracks without any other apparent signs of—"

"Trouble."

"Yep." There it was again. Front and center. The Troubles. To Nathan's way of thinking, it seemed lately that all they encountered were cases related to the Troubles. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned crimes like bait-and-switch, petty theft, robbery, assault, domestic disputes…?

"Okay, so the trees go all _Avatar_ on us. And just this particular grove?"

The corners of Nathan's mouth quirked upward in a half-smile. "No other reports. Already checked."

"So we have trees that spontaneously bleed. Allegedly. _Great_." Audrey chuckled to herself. "I'm Catholic. Sort of. I grew up hearing about spontaneously bleeding statues. Relics. And let's not forget stigmata. Kind of missed the part about spontaneously bleeding maple trees."

"Can't wait to get the labs back on this one. Maybe find out what kind of blood we're dealing with."

Audrey groaned, "Just writing this one up…" Her voice trailed off as she fixed her gaze on the manor house. She had been studying the stonework along the gables, when she did a double take, thinking she saw a figure in one of the windows. But when she looked again, there was no one there.

"You okay, Parker?"

"Fine. This place is something else isn't it?"

"If you like ostentatious wealth. Scenery that looks like it came off a postcard."

"Okay, Nathan, who spit _your_ soup?"

"This place just isn't for me." Nathan wrinkled his nose, still detecting the combination of scents that affected his sensitive sense of smell, though when he concentrated, he thought he could also make out the scent of her shampoo, which was far more appealing to him.

"Is there a story here?" Audrey asked, her gaze falling on her partner.

"No. No story." Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the truck next to her. "So this is a hell of a way to spend your day off."

She shrugged. "I think we both know there's no such thing."

"True. But sometimes it's nice to pretend. You find out anything?"

"Vince and Dave are conveniently MIA. I did talk to Duke."

"Why?"

Audrey ran her fingers over the necklace she wore. Through the fabric of her shirt, she could feel the edges of the pendant, and in her mind's eye, she could see the intricate LR etched on the back. "Long story. I promise to tell you about it when you cook for me tonight."

"Oh, so I'm cooking tonight?" His blue eyes shone amusement.

"I'm thinking, yes. I mean, you aren't seriously going to exile me to the land of cupcakes, are you?"

"Would be cruel of me, wouldn't it? Okay then. But this does prove what we were talking about yesterday."

Audrey eyes narrowed, trying to think about to what he was referring. Yesterday, they had talked about so much it made her head spin. Lady Cassandra's prophesies. Her own suspicions that she was Lucy Ripley and that she was somehow responsible for the Troubles. Nathan's admission that he could feel her. Only her. "What do you mean?"

"You _are_ bossy."

Audrey lightly elbowed Nathan in the side, her action catching him by surprise. Though from the half-smile that formed on his lips, it was evident that he didn't mind it too much.

"I dug into some old files at the station," Nathan mentioned.

"Oh. Brave man. Tackled the chief's filing system."

"Nearly tackled the chief." Nathan's ire rose just at the thought of his father. "No reports of a boy drowning or nearly drowning. And the mask story Lady Cassandra told us…"

"Yeah?"

"Did find a file on that. It was written off as a mass allergic reaction to plastic."

"Figures." She knew she and Nathan had been guilty on occasion of glossing over the reality of what they had encountered in the official record. "So why did you and your dad get into it?"

"The chief," he corrected. "Long story." Nathan knew he would have to tell Audrey about the chief's strange behavior and ominous comments, but he hated to unload more problems on her.

Audrey sensed Nathan's sudden dark mood and tried to lighten things. "We're apart for only a few hours, and you can't behave."

"Guess you shouldn't let me out of your sight."

"Guess I shouldn't."

"Here is that list of names," Charlie Thornhill approached the duo and handed Nathan a folded piece of paper. "Everyone who has been at Brand House in the last _two_ weeks. Fortunate that Mrs. Harrington keeps such records."

"Yes, fortunate," Audrey repeated.

"And this," Charlie continued, handing Audrey a large, hardbound book, "is for you. Mr. Brand asked that I give it to you once I passed on your appreciation for the grounds and buildings."

"Mr. Brand wasn't available to gift it himself?" Nathan asked, a hint of disdain in his voice.

"No, I only barely caught him between teleconferences," Charlie explained.

"Thank you. I'll enjoy looking at it," Audrey replied graciously.

"We'll be in touch with the lab results. Call if anything else strange happens," Nathan said.

* * *

As Nathan opened the door of the Bronco and glanced across the bench, he silently cursed. The spark plugs from Audrey's car were still in the passenger seat. His intentions had been good: an insurance policy of sorts to keep Audrey from driving until they could be one hundred percent certain that she wasn't going to pass out again, the way she had the day before when they had encountered Lady Cassandra. Somehow he doubted she would see it the same way, and those plans he had to put them back in place before she realized they were gone were starting to look less likely.

Audrey hoisted herself into the Bronco, and she saw Nathan hastily putting something in the glove compartment.

"What was that?"

"What?" he asked, inserting the key into the ignition.

"Whatever you put in the glove compartment. You didn't want me to see it."

Nathan could deny it, but he also knew that she would see through any denials. So he decided to try a different tactic. "Then why are you asking when you know I don't want you to see it?"

"I'm going go on a limb here and saying it's because you don't want me to see it."

"Circular reasoning, Parker?"

"Oh, come on! You know it makes me want to know even more."

"I can tell," Nathan replied flatly. "Fine. Open it and see."

She reached for the latch on the compartment. With all the build up, she was expecting something exciting. What she found was anti-climactic. "Spark plugs? Why are you stashing spark plugs?"

No answer.

"Nathan."

"Because they're not being used right now," he replied, as though it was the most logical answer in the world.

"No kidding. Where did they come from?"

"Not really sure where they were manufactured."

"What did you do? Take lessons from Duke on how to be evasive?" Audrey grumbled. "And why were you making a big deal about spark plugs?"

"I'm not the one making a big deal."

Audrey fell silent as she closed the glove compartment.

As the two traveled back toward town, Nathan thought he had dodged the proverbial bullet until he heard a loud gasp come from the occupant of the passenger's seat. He ventured a glance in her direction and saw her gape at him.

"I'll put 'em back."

"Damn straight you will." But there was no hint of anger in her voice. She was half-laughing, and Nathan was nearly positive that amid the amusement he also heard admiration.

* * *

"They have taken leave of us?" The deep, slightly-accented voice of Ephraim Brand sounded a bit distracted to Charlie Thornhill as he approached the open door of his employer's study.

Standing at the entrance, Charlie replied, "Yes, Mr. Brand."

Brand sat in an oversized leather chair, his back to the doorway. "Did everything go well?"

"It was what you expected. Except—"

With that one word, Ephraim Brand swiveled his chair around to examine the expression of the nervous Charlie Thornhill. "Except…?"

"Just before she arrived, a…a crack appeared in the ground in the grove. These cracks have been showing up all around Haven in the last few months."

Brand cleared his throat, sounding almost bored. "Yes, I imagine they have. So you gave her the book?"

"Yes."

"Good." The seated man leaned forward, running his long fingers over the edge of a framed photograph.

Charlie had the feeling he was being effectively dismissed, but the whole day had him on edge. "Why not approach her? If she is who you think she is…?"

As soon as the words had come from his mouth, Charlie wished he could take them back. The flash of anger he saw in Ephraim Brand's eyes had him literally backpedaling, though he caught himself before he did anything too terribly embarrassing like running out of the house. Yet just as quickly as the anger appeared, it diminished.

With measured words, Brand replied, "I want her to come to me." His eyes focused on the delicate features of the woman in the photograph. "And when she looks at the book, she will."

* * *

to be continued...


	9. Cracks in the Armor

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _Haven_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **After a too long hiatus, I'm back! I could bore you with the crises of the last few months (bad things really do happen in three's), but instead I'd rather thank you all for continuing to read, despite my shortcomings. I hope the chapter was worth the wait and that you enjoy it. The good news is that I have the next chapter nearly completed, so the wait should not stretch on and on...

As always, feedback is cherished.

Because it has been awhile, I should probably recap where we left our characters.

**Previously in **_**Phoenix Rising**_**:** After a rather frightening experience with a fortuneteller, Audrey was left with more questions about herself.

On a rare day off from work, our detectives found themselves doing what they always do: investigating. Nathan spent time scouring through old case files, trying to find clues to events Lady Cassandra mentioned before her mysterious death. However, he found his attempts fruitless when he realized the Chief was doing what he could to block Nathan's efforts.

Likewise, Audrey hoped to gain the assistance of the Teague Brothers, but they were nowhere to be found. She did, however, find Duke, and while he couldn't tell her anything about a little boy whose life Lucy saved, he did reveal more to her about his connection to Lucy, among other things.

However, both Nathan and Audrey were quickly called back to duty after reports of something strange happening at Brand House, an old estate nestled high in the Nákúset Summit. Audrey found herself drawn to the place; Nathan, not so much. However, They were both drawn to the mysterious happenings there. The Brand family's prized sugar maples were oozing what appeared to be blood, and another crack formed nearby.

Meanwhile, Audrey's connection to her past might be closer than she realizes in the form of Ephraim Brand, the elusive owner of the estate. who has some plans of his own...

* * *

**Chapter Nine: "Cracks in the Armor"**

The regional map of Haven affixed to the bulletin board in Nathan and Audrey's office was starting to look like a game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey gone wrong. Of course, the map wasn't a donkey, nor was the situation a game. Colored tacks dotted the map representing areas where the increasingly abundant—and unexplained—cracks had appeared. Stepping back, Audrey couldn't see a pattern, not that she entirely expected one. The Troubles had been anything but predictable.

Nathan looked up from where he sat at his desk. "You've been staring at the map for ten minutes."

Audrey shrugged. "Have to look busy so you don't draft me into finishing that report."

Nathan knew she was being facetious, but he played along. "How'd you stand it in the FBI? All the bureaucracy, the paperwork?"

"Yeah. The paperwork was never my strong suit. Used to piss off my supervisor."

"No kidding."

Audrey turned her attention back to the map and tilted her head to gain a different perspective. "I keep looking for a pattern."

Nathan leaned back in his chair. "You're trying to apply reason to something that isn't reasonable."

"But where do the Troubles come from? I mean, there has to be a cause, an origin, something. Why Haven? Why now?"

How many times had he had the same thoughts? It used to be the thoughts came with a hefty dose of self-pity. That wasn't the case so much anymore, but Audrey definitely wasn't asking anything that he, himself, had not considered. "Who knew bleeding trees could make you so contemplative?"

"Any ETA on the lab results from Bangor?"

"Tomorrow afternoon at the earliest," Nathan replied. "Spoke with Mitch Caffertin, asked for a rush, but it's the weekend. He also said we keep them in business."

"I'll bet. They've got to think it's strange that a small town like Haven has so many unusual lab requests. Do you really think the trees were oozing blood?"

"Sounds impossible, doesn't it?" Nathan replied. "But yeah. Looked like blood. Sure as hell smelled like it."

"You and your sensitive nose," Audrey muttered. "I agree with you. I just wonder if we'll find out it's human blood or animal blood. Of course, that doesn't solve the bigger question of how in the world does a tree ooze blood." She rubbed her eyes and groaned. "I hate not knowing."

"This isn't just about the trees."

"You're right. It's not just the trees, though you have to admit, that was pretty freaky. It's the cracks."

"We've seen them before."

"Yeah, but before yesterday, I had never seen Haven crumbling into the ocean." Audrey swallowed hard, remembering the spliced images that had filled her mind when the now-dead fortuneteller grasped her wrists as she collapsed. Coupled with events that Audrey had already experienced, she had been on edge.

"You saw a lot of things when you encountered Lady Cassandra. Doesn't mean they're guaranteed to happen."

"But considering that more than half of what I saw already did happen…" her voice trailed off. "What if those cracks are just the beginning? I mean, when you were a kid, when the Troubles were here before, did you ever see them?"

"No, but I was only about six."

"We're missing something that should be right in front of us. What do these," she pointed to the tacks on the map, "have in common?"

Nathan frowned. "Definitely not geography, other than the proximity to Haven."

"Or topography. Some of the cracks are well inland. Others along the coast. I would say a common type of soil, but this," she pointed to a tack several miles off the coast of Haven which represented where Duke's boat had been hijacked several weeks ago, "doesn't fit."

"We've looked at the people present. No commonality. 'Course, we've seen things happen without the cause being physically present."

Audrey pursed her lips. "Right. Bill McShaw. He certainly brought new meaning to mood food."

Nathan picked up the papers he had been working on, straightened them, and stood. "I think we need some distance. Fresh eyes. Let me file this report on the Brand incident, and we'll head out of here and to that dinner you roped me into."

"Sounds like a plan," Audrey called after him, though he was already halfway across the office and heading toward the door. Her attention returned to the map as she stepped back, positioned her fingers in the air in the shape of a rectangle, and framed the map, trying to see something, anything, different.

The ringing of her cell phone snapped her out her fixation. Reaching for her back pocket, she pulled out the communication device and pressed _answer_. "Parker here."

A familiar voice greeted her on the other end._ "Audrey, it's Vince Teague. I got your message. I understand you've been looking for me."_

Relief washed over her. "I was starting to think you and Dave were avoiding me," Audrey admitted.

"_Nonsense. We were simply out of pocket, following a lead on a story."_

"What a coincidence. I was hoping to do the same. Are you at the newspaper office?"

"_Well, yes."_

"Stay put. I'll be there in ten minutes." She touched the _End _button on her phone and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. Tearing out the door, she ran headlong into Nathan.

He steadied her from falling, his hands cradling her elbows.

"Sorry," she murmured meeting his gaze. _His eyes are really blue_. _Beautiful._ Audrey quickly pushed the thought aside, and almost laughed out loud at herself. She couldn't look at Nathan like _that._ This was _Nathan_.

Nathan seemed to realize that he was still holding on, despite the fact that she'd reestablished her equilibrium. With a half smile, he let go of her and stepped back.

"You must be hungry," he commented drolly at her apparent rush.

Audrey watched his reaction to their collision. She could have sworn that his cheeks were turning pink. Part of her would have loved to grill him on it, to try to delve into the mind of Nathan Wuornos. And perhaps someday the opportunity would present itself. Just not now. "I just got a call from Vince Teague. You should go on without me."

"Rain check?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Call it a rain delay. You go get things started. I'll pick up a bottle of…something…after I leave the _Herald_, and be at your place as soon as I can."

Nathan looked at her, uncertain. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Things are looking up. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally get a few answers."

* * *

"She's on her way," Vince remarked after he hung up the antiquated rotary phone. He looked up at Garland Wuornos who stood nearby with his arms folded across his chest.

"I shouldn't be here when she arrives," the chief of police commented.

"No, you shouldn't," Vince agreed with a sigh.

Garland had been a police officer long enough to recognize the telltale signs of disapproval in body language. Paired with the fact that Vince Teague was one of his oldest friends, it didn't take a genius to figure out he was struggling with their decision. "You don't think we're doing the right thing?"

"Is there even such a thing anymore?" Vince asked, exasperation creeping into his voice. "I don't like this, Garland. She has a right to know."

"But we both know why she never can."

"Yes, well, that doesn't mean I have to like it." Vince straightened the cardigan he wore. "Now take off. She said ten minutes, but we both know when Audrey's motivated, she has a way of making up time. Her 'ten minutes' might be more like five."

Garland nodded before exiting the building, the jingling of the bells on the door signaling his departure.

Within a couple of minutes, Vince heard the bells sound again, but when he looked up, it was neither Garland Wuornos nor Audrey Parker. A sickening feeling nestled in his stomach.

The new arrival was dressed in black trousers and a white button up shirt, carrying what Vince recognized to be an expensively cut jacket, though he supposed that red horns and a pitchfork would have been more suitable. With disbelieving eyes, he searched the man's features for some semblance of wrinkles or even a hint of gray hair. He found none. "You've not aged a day in twenty-seven years."

The man chuckled heartily before speaking with what Vince recognized as a European accent of some sort, though he had difficulty deciphering its point of origin. "I'm afraid you have the better of me." His smile faded. "This is the office of the _Haven Herald_, is it not?" With a long finger, he gestured to the etching on the glass street door. "And you are undoubtedly one of the Teagues?"

"Undoubtedly," Vince replied meeting the man's eyes, his tone flat.

"Ah, yes. You are Vince Teague, are you not? Prior to my arrival, I received a smattering of a history lesson on Haven and its occupants along with the warning that I may not be welcomed with open arms. My father forewarned me _you_ would be particularly…resistant."

"Resistant?" Vince echoed, a frown etched deep on his face.

"Yes, something about unpleasantness on his last trip to Haven," the younger man replied dismissively as he circled the room, nonchalantly running his fingers along the wood furniture.

Vincent's jaw clenched. "So you're saying you are…"

"Ephraim Brand, the son of a man who knew you…twenty-seven years ago, you say?" He casually shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. "Along with the archaic tradition of carrying on this name, as have all the first-born sons in my lineage, I have also been told I bear a striking resemblance to my father as a younger man."

"Yes," Vince replied standing and walking around his desk, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on his visitor, continuing to study his appearance and demeanor, not able to keep his disbelief at bay. 'Striking resemblance' was an understatement. Other than his hair cut, this man looked to be a replica of the person he knew years ago, and if being around Audrey had taught him anything... "As did your father before you. And his father before him. You can see from looking at me, Mr. Brand, I have been around for a number of years. Oh, I've seen the Brands come and go many times over. And amazingly, nothing changes."

"Yes, well, the last time my family was here, there were some troubles. I trust at least that much has changed."

_Troubles._ That word was not coincidental, and as far as Vince was concerned, it was a challenge to his mettle. "Let's not pretend. We both know who you are and why you're here."

The younger man's eyes widened, affecting a guileless appearance. "Yes, for a newspaper subscription."

"You're not going to get what you want." The words hung in the air, both men knowing that the issue in question had nothing to do with newspapers.

Still, Brand perpetuated the ruse. "Really, Mr. Teague, considering the state of the newspaper business these days with the advent of the Internet, I thought you would be more amiable to your potential subscribers."

"Normally I would agree with you, but I didn't like your games twenty-seven years ago, and I don't like them now."

"Come now, Vince. May I call you Vince? Twenty-seven years ago, I was just a boy. A six year old."

"No one is ever quite what he seems. You—your father—told me that many years ago. One of the only truths I ever heard fall from the lips of Ephraim Brand."

"Hmmm. Haven is as my father told me. Very quaint. I rather like it, bleeding trees and cracks in the ground, notwithstanding."

Vince flinched inwardly at the visitor's offhanded telling of what was unquestionably a manifestation of the Troubles. "I meant what I said. You aren't going to find what you're looking for here. You should leave Haven before something bad happens."

"Bad things are already happening, are they not?" Brand drew an apple from his jacket, which, when held in his hand appeared blood red. Biting into it, a look of immense pleasure filled his features. "Just delicious. Would you like one? They're in season."

"No, which is what Eve should've told the serpent."

Brand chuckled at the other man's deliberate dig. "My father said I would like you. Until we meet again, Vince. Oh, and don't worry about the newspaper subscription. I'll have my manservant retrieve a paper for me from the newsstands. It will give him an excuse to mingle with the locals."

With that, he strode off, apple still in hand.

Hearing the familiar chime of the tinkling bells, Vince Teague felt his legs start to quiver, his courage for the day entirely spent. He stepped back to lean against his desk for support. Steadying himself, his hand knocked an object. Taking a deep breath, he looked down.

A large, blood red apple sat inches from his fingers.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered.

* * *

Haven never seemed large unless Audrey was in a hurry. Wishing, not for the first time in her life, that she were a bit taller so she would have a longer stride, Audrey walked as quickly as her legs would carry her while not giving the appearance of an emergency. It occurred to her only after she was on her way that she should have had Nathan drop her off.

When she was closing in on the newspaper office, she slowed her gait in hopes of slowing her breathing. The last thing she wanted was to show up out of breath. _More exercise, fewer cupcakes_, she silently told herself.

Standing across the street from the _Herald_, she was waiting for a break in traffic, when she saw a tall man emerge from the newspaper office. To say that he stood out in the crowd would have been an understatement. It wasn't just his clothes, though they certainly were not the typical local flavor, which generally consisted of denim and flannel. Nor was he what one would call traditionally handsome, though he was attractive enough. No, there was something far more intangible that made her stop and stare, even though there was a break in traffic.

He held an apple, and Audrey had the strangest notion that the fruit was much more vibrant in color than she had ever seen before. The man halted, seeming to feel her gaze upon him, and turned toward her.

His eyes fixed on hers.

Normally, she would have been mildly embarrassed to be caught ogling a stranger, but those feelings were brushed aside when she watched his demeanor change. He went from seeming coolly self-assured and disinterested to…something else.

And then it hit her. This man she didn't know _recognized_ her.

Audrey nearly stepped out in front of oncoming traffic at the realization but quickly stepped back on the sidewalk when an approaching delivery truck honked its horn.

"Not cool, Parker," she muttered to herself.

But when the tall truck passed, the stranger was gone.

She crossed the road (safely this time) and looked up and down the sidewalk. There was no sign of the man.

Shaking her head slightly, she entered the newspaper office, still mildly stupefied by the experience.

* * *

The bells rattled as Audrey opened the door to the _Herald._ It was becoming a familiar place to her, and Vince and Dave both had been helpful to her on a number of occasions. Of course, she liked to think that she helped them out from time to time, as well, a little bit of reciprocity.

As she entered, she saw Vince swatting at an apple with a pencil, gingerly rolling it until it went off the edge of his desk into a wastebasket. _Odd_.

"Two points."

"Hello, Audrey."

"Hi," she replied. "So what's with the apple? You almost looked like you were afraid to touch it."

Vince paused for a moment, rubbed his chin, and then replied. "Allergies. Someone was playing a little trick on me, I'm afraid."

"You're allergic to apples?" Audrey asked skeptically.

"He's allergic to hard work," Dave Teague replied walking into the room.

"Well, while you've been taking a nap in the back, I've been catching up out here," Vince defended.

"I was up at the crack of dawn, chasing down Jethro Smythe before the carnival packed up and left town. I think I've earned a nap," Dave sniffed.

"But not the right to be grumpy," Vince scolded.

Dave ignored his brother and turned to the visitor. "Good evening, Audrey."

"Dave," she greeted.

"Do you have some information you can pass along to our readers for the next edition of the _Herald_?" the balding, bespectacled man asked.

"Maybe," Audrey replied noncommittally, but her primary goal was not to help the brothers' newspaper. It was to help herself, and she wanted to steer the conversation in a very different direction. Looking at Vince, she asked, "Who was the man that just left here?"

"Come again?"

"The man who just left here. About 6'1". Early thirties, I would say. Wearing dark pants, a white shirt. Brown hair. Light colored eyes, not sure of the exact shade. He carried an apple." Her description hung in the air.

Vince cleared his throat. "Just a newcomer to town wanting a paper subscription."

"What was his name?" Audrey asked.

Vince paused. "I don't recall."

Audrey pressed on. "Surely you have the paperwork for his subscription…?"

"Audrey, what is all this about?" Dave asked.

"I think he recognized me. Or Lucy or whoever. I wanted to talk with him, but when I got across the street, he was gone." She looked back to Vince. "Could you maybe look up his name for me?"

"I…" Vince stammered. "I think I have it on my desk. Let's see. Now where did that go?" Vince rustled some of the papers on his desk. "Oh dear me. How embarrassing. I seem to have misplaced it."

"If he is new to town, he shouldn't be that hard to track down," Dave suggested. "Though your organization leaves much to be desired," he shot at his brother.

Vince ignored the other man. "At the risk of sounding like a naysayer, if he did recognize you, why would he…uh…"

"Keep on walking?" Audrey completed.

"Exactly."

Audrey's teeth grazed her bottom lip as she considered his question. "I don't know. It doesn't make much sense to me. Of course, that's the story of my life."

"I'm sure the paperwork will turn up. When it does…"

Dave walked to his desk and retrieved a pad of paper. "Now that you're here, we'd like to interview you for a story."

"A story?"

"Yes, we've been working on coverage of the fall fun fest. Naturally, we've been researching reports that a fortuneteller died under mysterious circumstances and that you and Nathan were present. Will there be an official investigation?"

"Julia Carr's preliminary examination suggests that Lady Cassandra, stage name for Nancy Smith, had a stroke. I'm sure if her family wants an autopsy done, one will be conducted, but there is no evidence to support suspicion of a crime."

Dave nodded as he made notations on his pad. "Some of the witnesses present said that she seemed to know you, that you had the opportunity to speak with her. Did she say anything about your past?"

Audrey crossed her arms. "I can't really help you there." Her words were measured, casual even. But inwardly she quaked. Lady Cassandra's words and the torrent of images that followed still had her shaken if she allowed herself to think of them.

"_Listen to me," Lady Cassandra rasped. "Your past is fragmented. I can see this in you. You are many. You are one. You will be who you once were. And you will be no more, Audrey Parker."_

_As the woman spoke, the tent seemed to shrink away from Audrey until she was no longer in the tent but somewhere unrecognizable. She had the curious sensation that she was everywhere at once. And then it happened. Events played in her mind's eye. _

_Learning the catechism. _

'_Got no mom. Got no dad. That's because Audrey's bad.'_

_Cradling her broken wrist. _

_Longing for Josh Watkins to notice her. _

_Her first kiss in college. _

_Showing up for biology lab soaking wet. _

_Her first lover. _

_Sharp-shooting at Quantico. _

_Loathing Captain & Tennille._

_Drawing her weapon on Nathan. _

_Waking up at Duke's._

_Pancakes. _

_Seeing tears in Nathan's eyes._

_Scars. _

_A little boy. _

_A tattoo. _

_Beckoning someone to her._

_A murdered man. _

_A crumbling coastline. _

_Blood running in the street._

_Darkness._

Audrey realized her own fingers were digging into her arms where she had crossed them, and she relaxed them. She could understand the brothers wanting information from her; she wanted the same from them. But she didn't see much point to telling them of Lady Cassandra's prophecies. Of course, if she kept outwardly reacting to questions about the fortuneteller, she was only going to raise their suspicions further.

Dave continued, "When I spoke with him, Jethro Smythe was convinced that there's something unusual…"

"I'd say more than unusual, Dave," Vince volunteered.

"Perplexing," Dave amended.

"I'd go with vexing."

"You would. Always trying to show off that vocabulary of yours. You just have to keep in mind, the common person—"

Audrey raised her eyebrows. "As much as I hate to interrupt this edition of Journalism 101, I did come here for a reason. I need to search your archives."

"What are you looking for?" Dave asked.

"Any articles about a boy nearly drowning around the time of September 1983. You don't happen to remember anything like that, do you?"

Dave and Vince exchanged a look. "It doesn't ring a bell," Dave replied.

Vince extended his hand in the direction of a wooden table laden with a computer terminal. "You're welcome to look, but I don't think you'll find anything."

"Humor me." Audrey slid into a chair at the table and entered keywords into the search box of the search engine.

"Does this search have anything to do with the woman who died at the fun fest yesterday?" Vince persisted.

Dave muttered, "Not so fun for her, was it?"

Vince frowned. "Your morbid sense of humor is rearing its ugly head again."

"At least I have a sense of humor," Dave retorted.

Vince ignored his brother and looked to Audrey for a response.

Audrey employed a strategy that had served her well over the years, the answer-a-question-with-a-question technique. It often worked, though she did recall the nuns being impervious to it. "How would they be connected?" Her tone suggested no great belief in any correlation though she was eager to hear what Vince would say. The fact that he connected Lady Cassandra and the drowning—along with the look the brothers exchanged—led her to believe that both knew more than they let on.

Dave interceded. "Do you believe this woman had some kind of…fortunetelling ability?"

"Shouldn't she be able to see her own death, then?" Vince responded to his brother. "What do you think, Audrey?"

"Look, I'm just dotting my _i_'s and crossing my _t_'s," Audrey hedged. "I did hear something pretty interesting, though it's way…way out there. When I was at the fun fest, there was a story going around. Something about masks melding to the wearers' faces. It supposedly happened a long time ago…"

Dave chuckled. "That's…that's ridiculous. Oh, the stories that get passed around! How they change!"

"But there is a real story behind it?" Audrey queried.

"Allergic reactions to the masks, as I recall," Vince supplied.

"Right," Audrey commented. "Evidently Haven is a bad place for allergies." She turned her attention back to the screen. "This search is taking a long time."

"Told you we should've gone with the faster processor," Dave muttered.

"We've cataloged nearly forty years of articles. You try to remember that much, and see how fast your brain works."

Audrey tapped her fingers, her impatience starting to get the better of her. Lady Cassandra mentioned that Lucy saved a little boy who was a drowning victim. If she could verify some of the things the deceased woman said, that would go a long way toward helping Audrey to know whether any other things she told her might also be true.

If she was being true with herself, she wasn't certain that she wanted the stories or the visions to be real. Of course, if the visions weren't real, what did that say about her sanity? Yep, the situation sucked.

She turned her attention back to the screen when she heard a chirp indicating the search was complete.

Dave shook his head. "I'd say the only thing you're going to find is an article on…"

"Holly Wuornos," Audrey murmured seeing an image of a lovely woman come into view when she clicked on a link to the article "Haven Woman Drowns". Audrey would have recognized her even without the caption below her picture.

"She was a beaute," Vince commented.

Dave nodded in agreement. "We used to always kid Garland about her. 'What's a beautiful woman like Holly doing with a jack like you?'"

"Did Lucy and Holly know each other?"

Silence.

"Not a trick question," Audrey pointed out as neither of the men volunteered information.

"A lot of people knew Lucy, but the memory is a…tricky…thing," Dave explained.

"Right. Convenient for everyone else. Not so convenient for me," Audrey muttered. "Would it be okay if I printed a copy of this article?"

* * *

"Do you think she knows?" Vince asked his brother.

"It appears as though she suspects."

Vince looked out the door and watched as Audrey ambled down the sidewalk toward the Haven Wine & Spirits Shoppe. "Are we doing the right thing here? Bringing her back has put her in danger."

"We're all of us in danger. She may be the only one who can help."

"That's what Garland says. I have reservations. And last time…"

"I know."

"And we've got an even bigger problem."

Dave pushed the bridge of his glasses, which had slid down his nose. "Can it get worse?"

"Why must you even ask that? Of course it can get worse. It has."

"Well, spit it out then," Dave replied, annoyed.

Vince somberly replied, "Ephraim Brand is back."

"What? Why didn't you say so?"

"He was the visitor Audrey saw," Vince explained to his brother.

"Oh. This is not good. What did he want?"

"To put me on notice, I suppose. Who knows what he is planning, but if past precedent is anything to go on…"

"I'm getting too old for this," Dave muttered.

Despite himself, Vince couldn't help but chuckle wryly at Dave's reaction, which mirrored his own. "Me, too."

* * *

To be continued...


	10. A Dose of Denial

**Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of _Haven_. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **I struggled mightily with finding the right tone with this chapter. I'm still not 100% satisfied with it, but as they say, the show must go on.

As always, feedback is cherished. It really does feed the muse.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: "A Dose of Denial"**

"I'm pretty sure Dave and Vince know more than they're letting on."

Nathan stepped aside to allow Audrey entrance into his kitchen and closed the door after her. He'd been surprised to see her standing on his back deck but not so surprised by her lack of a greeting. "Hello to you, too."

"Sorry." Shaking her head in recognition of her lack of etiquette, she set the paper bag she carried on the counter.

Nathan returned to the stove. "You call 'em out on it?" he asked ladling chicken and gnocchi soup into two bowls.

"That smells so good," Audrey commented before addressing his question. "Not exactly. A wise man once said you've got to know when to hold them and know when to fold them."

"You quoting Kenny Rogers, Parker?"

She grimaced. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

"I notice everything."

Audrey nearly snorted. In her estimation, Nathan was selective about what he noticed. He was excellent at spotting suspicious behavior, crime scene clues, and cats in trees, but when it came to noticing women who were practically throwing themselves at him, yeah, she was pretty sure he was completely unaware. Jess Minion. Angie Gilcrest. Cindy Strader. "I just think that the one surefire way to guarantee I don't find out anything is to push the brothers too hard. It might make them dig deeper. I have to try subtlety."

Nathan pulled spoons from a cabinet drawer near the stovetop. "You? Subtle?"

"I can be subtle when I have to be," Audrey responded, though her tone was less than convincing. "Thanks," she said as he passed her a spoon.

"You know, if you push the issue with them, it might make them fold."

"It also might make them dig deeper." Each carried a bowl of soup to the table in the kitchen. No candles were lit. No flowers adorned the small table. It was just the two of them, casual, comfortable. "Red or white?" she asked indicating the two bottles of wine she had brought with her.

"Red," Nathan replied, walking to another drawer and removing a corkscrew from it.

Extending his arm, he passed the tool to Audrey. As she took it from him, her fingers brushed his hand lightly. She was completely oblivious to the contact and immediately set out to open the bottle of red wine she brought. Yet he felt the ghosts of her brief touch fading. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. The only thing he was left to feel was self-conscious as he tried to push aside the thoughts that made him stop and wonder.

"I'm not much of a wine expert," she commented as she worked at extracting the cork. "Hope it's okay."

"I'm not either. More of a beer kind of guy. Or Jack when the occasion calls for it."

"But not mixed together," Audrey replied wrinkling her nose.

"Definitely not."

She looked up, studying the tall man who stood a few feet from her. He still had on his cooking apron, and she was halfway convinced it was perfect blackmail fodder. She was tempted to tease him about the frock, but seeing as how she had already guilted him into making dinner for her _again_, she decided against it. "So, do you…I mean, can you…get drunk?"

"If I drink enough." Nathan untied the smock and pulled it off, tossing it onto the countertop before sitting at the table. "Why? You going to try to get me drunk?"

"What would you do if I did?" she challenged with a smile.

Nathan exhaled. What indeed? Too much liquid courage, and he'd probably find the nerve to do what his good judgment prevented.

"Not sure," he hedged. "I do know that unlike you, I won't end up with a hangover."

"Must be nice," she sniffed at his mild gloating.

"It's my lemonade," he replied, his tone bland.

"Huh?"

"When life hands you lemons…"

"Oh. Right." Audrey knew that Nathan had learned to, if not make the best of his situation, at least cope with it. How did _she _deal with hard knocks? Cupcakes and a dose of denial. No one would ever accuse Nathan of being a freaking Pollyanna, but he had to be the toughest person Audrey knew. Somehow she figured the lemonade method was better than the cupcake method, though the cupcakes definitely tasted better.

Speaking of tasting good, the aroma of the soup was just about to kill her. Okay, not literally, but if it tasted half as good as it smelled… Steam rose from the bowls, and she didn't even have to look over at Nathan to know he was letting his soup cool further before taking a bite.

"So it's been a weird few days," she began.

"Yep."

"I saw a man today. Right before going into the newspaper office, actually. I think he….," she paused trying to process her thoughts. "I think he knew Lucy."

That perked Nathan up. "Did you talk to him?"

"No, I didn't have the chance. I was across the road from him, and by the time I got over there, he was gone."

The disappointment in her voice was nearly palpable. Nathan sympathized with her; he couldn't imagine being in her situation and having so many questions about his past, who he was, where he came from; but Audrey wasn't the type of woman who wanted to be coddled, so he continued questioning her. "Why do you think he knew Lucy?"

"I saw it on his face. The recognition."

"You sure you don't know him?"

"If I'd known him, as Audrey I mean, I think I would've remembered him."

That gave Nathan pause. He'd seen Audrey struggle to recall names of people she had worked alongside for months. What was it about this man that she would have found memorable? "So you have no idea who he was, why he would've left without talking to you?"

"Not really. He'd been in the newspaper office getting a newspaper subscription, according to Vince."

"And Vince didn't get a name?"

"He said he lost the paperwork."

"You've seen the way those two fuss over their newspaper. Losing paperwork? Doesn't sound like something Vince would do."

"Just another layer of secrets."

"How many layers does that make now?"

"I'm thinking three."

"I was gonna go with four," Nathan countered, which drew a small smile from her. "Tourist season is pretty much over. Any newcomer to town's going to be noticeable."

"Which is partly why I didn't grill Vince."

"You _absolutely_ sure it was Lucy he recognized?"

"I've never met him, so it had to be Lucy. Though he wasn't very old. Early thirties, if I had to guess."

"Which means he would've known Lucy when he was a kid."

Audrey nodded. "But how? And does he know Lucy from Haven or from somewhere else?" She swallowed hard. Sometimes she thought her mind was going to break from all the bending it had to do. How could she be Lucy Ripley? It made no sense, not when her memories of her own childhood in the orphanage, growing up in Ohio, were vivid.

It would have been so much easier if she'd found out Lucy was her mother. Even if Lucy didn't want anything to do with her, at least she would know where she came from. Instead, at this point, she was starting to not just question who she was but _what_ she was.

"When we find him, we'll ask him."

"We?" Audrey echoed, the corners of her mouth turning up. Sometimes she thought Nathan Wuornos was the only one keeping her sane.

"We." Nathan reiterated. "Give me a description."

"Like I said, early thirties. Tall. Maybe about 6'1" if I had to guess. Attractive. Caucasian. Dark hair and light colored eyes. Not sure if they were blue or green. He was dressed nicely. Dark dress pants. Button-up shirt. He carried a jacket and… an apple."

"An apple?" Nathan echoed.

"Yes, some people do like to eat fruit." She thought back to Vince poking at the apple on his desk. "Though not everyone…" her voice trailed off.

"You remember something else about the man?"

"Not about him. Vince Teague. When I walked into the _Herald_, he was using a pencil to poke at an apple on his desk, rolling it off so he wouldn't have to touch it. I asked him about it, 'cause, hey, I had seen this other man with an apple and, let's face it, swatting at an apple is just odd. Vince claimed to be allergic."

"And the reasonable course of action for handling allergies is to prod the object with a pencil. Naturally." Nathan shook his head in disbelief. "So there's more of a connection than he's letting on. Think he'll be able to keep all those lies straight?"

"Guess I'll be finding out pretty soon. Subtly, of course."

She leaned back in the chair and smiled. Being there was comfortable, though it wasn't just Nathan's house. It was Nathan himself. She had held back so much of herself in her conversations with the Teague brothers and even with Duke. But over the course of the last few days, she'd laid everything on the line for her partner, and not only had he supported her and helped her investigate, he'd also cooked her supper. Again.

_Supper. _Her stomach growled.

The contents of her bowl were no longer steaming, so Audrey took a spoonful of the thick, rich soup. The aroma filled her nostrils, making her mouth water before the soup even reached it. And when she did finally take a bite, it was an explosion of flavors that greeted her. Her eyes widened.

"What?" he asked.

"This is _so_ good. Oh, and the temperature's just right." Audrey took another bite. "You know, this is exactly where we were last night. I'll bet now you're regretting you ever cooked for me. 'Cause you know I'm going to expect it from here on out."

"You couldn't eat cupcakes forever," Nathan replied dipping his spoon into the thick soup.

"I sure as hell was going to try," Audrey admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't get here in time to help you."

"No, you're not," Nathan challenged, laughter shining in his eyes.

"Well, I would offer to cook for you at my place, but I've got no real kitchen."

"You planning on staying at the B&B permanently?"

"I—I hadn't really thought about it. I had an apartment in Boston, but I didn't really spend much time there. Well, never fully unpacked, for that matter." She shrugged. "I guess I just haven't zeroed in on it."

"Right. You've only had a measly six months to search…"

She groaned. "The idea of home is…complicated."

"Because of your free agent status," Nathan concluded, referring to her upbringing.

"I don't like getting too attached, too settled. I get to avoid disappointment that way."

"Not every person or place is going to disappoint you, Audrey."

"I know," she nodded shifting in her seat. She was eager to deflect the conversation away from herself. "What about you? How long have you lived here?"

Nathan wrinkled his nose, mentally thinking back. "November 2003. Bought it as a fixer-upper."

Audrey's eyes swept the kitchen. "It looks good and fixed up."

"Should. I've had long enough. You wouldn't believe the wiring in this place before I moved in. My dad called it a death trap."

"Which of course made you want it more."

"Yep. Spent a lot of time redoing it."

"Speaking of layers, looks like I just peeled another layer off you. I didn't know you were a handyman. You can cook, you can fix things."

"Can't seem to fix myself," Nathan replied.

"Here's to hoping we both find the answers we're looking for," Audrey said as she lifted her glass of wine.

"Here's to hoping," Nathan responded, clinking his wine glass with hers.

"This gnocchi is out of this world, by the way," Audrey complimented. "If I had a kitchen and tried to make this, it wouldn't turn out nearly so good."

"Thanks, but it's easy."

"You're being modest, and I'm not sure if that's annoying or kind of endearing. Seriously, with that first bite, I was ready to get down on one knee and propose."

"You think they have a pool going at the station for that?" he asked with a straight face.

Audrey good-naturedly threw her napkin at him, and Nathan found himself chuckling at her bad aim before he grew more serious.

"So did you find out anything at the _Herald_ to confirm Lady Cassandra's stories?" he asked before swallowing another spoonful of soup.

"The brothers said they remembered the mask incident, but they described it as being some kind of allergic reaction. Who knew allergies were so bad in Haven?"

"Sounds familiar," Nathan replied, thinking of the official police report that he had read earlier in the day regarding the same incident. "What about the little boy?"

"Another great big question mark. You know I went to see Duke this morning."

"Yeah."

"Lucy is connected to him somehow. I don't know how. Neither does he, but," Audrey reached to the necklace she wore and unclasped it, "Lucy gave him this and told him he would know what to do with it when the time came."

She passed it to Nathan, and he held the delicate jewelry, its chain dangling from his fingers are he examined it more closely. "LR. Lucy Ripley."

Audrey nodded. "I have her scar. Thanks to Duke, I have her necklace. And it figures, nothing rings a bell."

"You were thinking Duke was the little boy." Nathan looked at Audrey intently.

"It crossed my mind. He would've been about the right age. Plus, it would have explained their connection and why she gave him the necklace."

"But…"

"But Duke doesn't remember anything like that ever happening to him or any of the other local kids. The only drowning he remembers—" Audrey stopped herself realizing what she was about to say and was more than mildly appalled that she was speaking so matter-of-factly about it with Nathan.

"Is my mom's," he finished.

Audrey winced. "I'm sorry."

Nathan shook his head and passed the necklace back to her. "It's okay. It was a long time ago." Silence settled between them for a moment before Nathan asked, "You know what's weird?"

"Um, try everything in Haven?" Audrey replied, her tone echoing the awkwardness she felt.

"I don't even remember much about those days."

"Maybe it's a blessing." Audrey had no parents, but the periodic wondering and emptiness she felt over the years at the lack of them made her wish she could be indifferent. But to know a parent and lose him or her? Who would want to remember the agony of loss surrounding those days?

"Or just another sign of weakness in _The World According to Garland Wuornos_." Bitterness crept into his voice.

"The chief has some pretty skewed ideas about you then. No joke, you're the strongest person I know, Nathan. At the risk of sounding incredibly cheesy, you're my glue."

"Your glue?" he repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, you're a good friend. You hold me together. Keep me from doing really stupid things…"

"Which is a full time job." The corners of his lips quirked.

"Which you sometimes fulfill in a questionable way." Cough. "Sparkplugs." Cough. She leaned forward in her chair, becoming more reflective. "Your memory loss…I've heard it's common for children to block out unpleasant memories. But don't you think it's strange that so many people in town seem to genuinely not remember things that happened to them? Around them? Duke? Vanessa? They're just the tip of the iceberg."

"So you think the Troubles cause memory loss?"

"I don't know. There may be no connection, but it does make me wonder. And if the memory loss is associated with particular events…"

"Then someone or something must be pulling the strings," Nathan finished.

"But who or what?"

"And why would Duke remember my mom's death when I don't?"

"And why would he and Vanessa not remember the Colorado Kid's? The brothers were weird when I mentioned memory loss…"

"I've known them all my life. When are the brothers not weird?"

Audrey felt goose bumps. "I think we may be getting ahead of ourselves. We've got to be methodical."

Nathan stood up, walked to the refrigerator, and pulled a magnetic pad off of it, along with a pen. "Let's start brainstorming."

* * *

Two hours passed, and Nathan and Audrey had moved from the kitchen to Nathan's home office. The floor was littered with pieces of paper, clustered according to theories and names. They had also expanded their theorizing onto the whiteboard hanging on the wall of the office. Truly, the only thing they knew for certain was that they had more questions than answers.

Of course, that hadn't stopped them from trying. Each had scrawled questions on the board and made futile attempts at answers.

+Who or what is the source of the troubles?  
+What do the afflicted have in common?  
+Who are those with known memory loss? When was the memory loss detected? What commonalities do those people have?  
+Who seems to know more than they let on?  
+Is Lady Cassandra a reliable source of information? If so….  
+Who was the little boy?  
+Who was the man Lady Cassandra mentioned she saw with Lucy?

Most of these were questions they were revisiting in hopes that something new would dawn on them. The last question, though, was one they hadn't fully addressed. It had been more of a scrawled afterthought on Nathan's part, and Audrey had done everything to avoid thinking about it. But he had been right to pose it. According to Lady Cassandra, someone seemed to know Lucy intimately, a man who drew Lucy away from her. That person, if they could find him, would have invaluable information that might provide a veritable Rosetta Stone for answering so many of the other questions that swirled around them.

Audrey had also jotted down a list of the images she saw when she came into contact with Lady Cassandra. Perhaps it was speculative on her part, but she was convinced that they were not coincidental, nor were they a delusion.

Some of them had passed so quickly in her mind's eye, she'd struggled to take them in and wished she'd been able to linger in the moments of those images, to gather more information. Granted, some of them made her feel foolish. Hating on the Captain and Tennille? Seriously?

And beckoning someone to her? That moment seemed hazy to her, unclear and obviously not a memory of something she had yet experienced. But who she was beckoning and for what purpose?

And what did either of those matter in the grand scheme of things? Yep, foolish.

Other images she recalled made her feel queasy. A tattoo. No, not any tattoo. _The_ tattoo. The compass points. And then there were the images that chilled her to the very marrow in her bones, images that she alternately wished she could capture more of in hopes of learning what was to be and images she wished she had never seen. Blood running down the street. A dead man. Haven crumbling. Darkness.

She had no proof that what she saw was real, that they were truly representative of both what had happened and would happen. But while she and Nathan lacked proof, they'd definitely found evidence of a cover-up of some of the events the fortuneteller mentioned. Not exactly the same thing as those visions, Audrey cautioned herself, but it was all related to the dead woman.

Through it all, a gnawing sense of impending doom had become her constant companion.

Though if she was being truthful with herself, at the moment, it was a bit hazy.

Or was it her brain that was hazy?

Sitting on the carpeted floor, Audrey sighed as she stared down at the papers around her and then up at the board again. She'd had more than her share of wine (it was sweet, which she liked), as evidenced by the heaviness of her limbs. She wouldn't go so far as to say she was drunk, but i_mpaired_ seemed an apt description. And to think she had joked about getting _Nathan_ drunk. "When I said methodical, I probably should have speci…speci…,"

"Specified?" Nathan completed for her.

"Yeah, that word. No alcohol. My brain is just a little fuzzy. And don't say it, Nathan."

"Wasn't going to," he replied quickly. "So is it going to hurt in the morning?"

"Maybe," Audrey admitted. "I could use fresh air."

"Want to go for a walk?"

She shook her head, which felt incredibly cumbersome. "Better not. Wouldn't want people thinking I can't liquor my hold."

Nathan had to fight back a smile. "I'm going to make you some coffee. No more wine for you."

"In my defense, I kept up with you for awhile there."

"Yeah, but you had no chance. I outweigh you by…"

Audrey tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, her expression just _daring_ him to continue to estimate her weight.

"Right. I'm just going to make coffee now."

"Good answer," she replied holding her hand out. "Before you do, pull me up."

He looked at her in surprise before grasping her hand and pulling her to her feet.

Nathan might have been lean, but he was also strong, and that strength, combined with her own alcohol-induced lack of coordination, nearly had her falling into him. He steadied her, both of his hands finding her forearms, his long fingers curling around her.

"Your hands feel warm," she commented without thinking as she looked up at him.

"Your skin feels cool to the touch," Nathan replied. "I'd almost forgotten what that feels like." He seemed to realize that a longer than appropriate length of time had passed, and he was still holding on to her. He cleared his throat. "You good?"

"Yeah." Audrey felt his warmth leave her as he let go and took a step back. His expression was passive, but Audrey had known Nathan long enough to recognize it for what it was. He was covering.

_What am I doing?_ Her mind screamed. _'Pull me up?' Seriously? Foisting yourself on a guy who has sensory issues? Great friend you are, Audrey! _"I'm just going to pick up these papers. Straighten up, I guess."

He looked at her, questioningly.

"I'm fine to do it," she assured him. "Just won't be doing any needlepoint, surgery, or anything else that requires fine motor skills tonight."

"If you say so."

"I say so."

Nathan nodded and walked out of the room. Audrey began picking up the papers, careful to keep the related ideas together.

"That UMaine sweatshirt is in my room if you need it," she heard him call out to her from the hallway.

That wasn't a bad idea. The too-big sweatshirt was all kinds of warm, as she recalled. It would be nice to have if she was going to get that fresh air she had talked about a few minutes ago. Coffee on the porch, perhaps?

After gathering the papers, she set them on his desk, turned off the light in the room, and headed to what had been previously pointed out to her as Nathan's bedroom.

The first thing she noticed after she felt along the wall and found the light switch was that the room was tidy. Far, far tidier than her own room at the B&B. Not neat freak tidy, but the bed was made. No dirty socks littered the floor. Nathan had some books set out on the nightstand with bookmarks protruding from them. _Alas Babylon_, _Ender's Game_, _Lucifer's Hammer_.

_Nothing like a little dystopian/post apocalyptic reading before going to bed,_ she thought to herself.

Her eyes continued to travel the room. The walls were the color of creamed coffee. The bedding was plaid, mostly dark blue. Nathan had no curtains on the windows, just blinds. _Typical guy_, she thought to herself.

Finally, her eyes fell on the sweatshirt draped on the back of a rustic wooden chair. She began to walk across the room to retrieve it, but as she did, the room seemed to shift around her causing her equilibrium to do somersaults. Audrey tried to regain her bearings, silently cursing herself for having been a wine hound.

It was still Nathan's room, but it was no longer night. The cascading shadows hinted at late afternoon, though she could not be sure.

She blinked repeatedly. Had she drank even more than she realized?

_No_, she firmly told herself. _This has nothing to do with the occasional slurred word or heavy limbs. This is…this is…._

But she had no resolve as she seemed to melt into the moment. And she changed. No longer was she reaching for the sweatshirt to warm herself. She was warm. And naked.

_This is surreal. Surreal._

Real.

She gave herself over to the moment, felt fairly certain she was swimming in an effervescent sea, as each cell of her body tingled with awareness, with fervor, with longing.

And the emotions slammed her with their ferocity.

_She loved him. _

It would be easier to quit breathing than to stop loving him. Far less painful, too.

She couldn't give him up. She wouldn't.

Anticipation. Expectation. Yearning. They all rose within her.

She beckoned. One finger curled. Her whole body silently screamed for him. Her heart slammed in her chest. He was beautiful. Tall. Leanly muscled. Strong. He was too far away. Across the room was too damn far.

Yes, she beckoned, and he closed the distance between them. Without a word, she traced the three scars beneath his collarbone, still vaguely pink in their newness.

"You've got to stop scaring me like that," she gently chided.

But their time was precious, too precious to be spent on fears and regrets.

Eyes fluttering, mouth watering, she felt his skin against hers. _Warmth_. Calloused hands ran down her arms, setting off a flurry of sensations. He moved behind her, leaning down, his cheek against hers. Smooth against rough. Fingers entangled. Hearts entangled.

"Can't get you off my mind." His voice was coarse with emotion. "It's been a slow motion kind of day. And then everything speeds up when I touch you, when I feel you." His fingers left hers, skimming the contours of her hips, eliciting chills of delight. Then his hand moved upward, along the plane of her abdomen, upward to her heart—that one reminder that she was flesh, blood, and real. This was real.

Her breath caught within her, and she could feel his heart pound against her back, skin on skin.

He trailed her neck with small kisses.

Yes, she had beckoned to him and wanted this, wanted him, for however long she could have him.

"Nathan…," she moaned.

And the room spun, pulling her from the moment. With a jolt, Audrey found herself back where she'd begun. Nighttime. In Nathan's room reaching for his sweatshirt. Fully clothed. No entanglements.

An aching loss settled over her.

_Nathan._

Her friend. Her partner. Her _lover_?

No, it made no sense!

But the aching, the loss of the moment did not immediately subside. She had never known anything so potent. Tears stung her eyes, and no matter how she tried to force them away, they persisted.

She hated tears. Hated the sign of weakness. Hated feeling out of control. Hated…no, she couldn't say she hated the moment she experienced, even if there was no way it had any basis in reality.

But what was it?

No, Lady Cassandra must've been wrong, or else she was just going one hundred percent crazy.

Audrey had been so lost in her own reverie, she didn't hear Nathan come into the room.

"Parker? You okay? You look like you were a million miles away." He stood at the doorway, concern etched in his features.

"Not quite that far," she managed. She wanted to sound calm, cool, and collected, but her tone seemed mangled to her.

"Are you crying?" he asked moving further into the room.

She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. "Me? Crying? Please. I have something in my eye."

But he wasn't buying it. "What's going on with you?"

Audrey considered deflecting again, but this was Nathan. Even if what she experienced involving him was delicate, there was no way she could lie. Not to him.

"Something strange just happened. I saw something." Seeing the look on his face, she quickly added, "Not a rodent." She crossed her arms. "I was treated to the director's cut of one of the things I saw when Lady Cassandra grabbed hold of me."

She watched a look of dread fill his features. He was worried about her. That much was certain. With Lady Cassandra being gone, they had both figured the visions were a one time deal. "What did you see?"

She chuckled wryly. "Not anything particularly helpful, that's for sure."

"Tell me anyway."

"I…" _Well, Nathan. It goes like this._ _I gave you my best come-hither look, and we were naked here in your bedroom. Great bod, partner. Oh, and your hands were all over me. Felt really good, by the way. Oh, and I was in love with you. Crazy in love with you. Pretty overwhelming. Yeah. That about covers it._

"Audrey?" Nathan prompted.

"Will you do something for me?"

She watched as his jaw clenched. If she knew Nathan, he was debating with himself whether to push her for answers or let the issue go for the time being.

"What do you need?" he finally asked.

Speaking matter-of-factly, she gave him an answer. "I need you to take off your shirt."

* * *

To be continued...


	11. Equilibrium

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **Okay, so admission time. This chapter was originally going to be a bit longer and encompass some of the mystery aspects of the story. However, I still had a bit more to write of the next part and it's been so long since I've updated, I decided to split the chapter and let this stand alone as a fluffy, more relationship-based part. After the last episode (2.05 "Roots"), I figured we needed a little fluff. So this is more about Nathan and Audrey's growing awareness of each other as they take tentative steps toward something more than a working partnership.

You guys have had to wait a long time for this chapter. I hope it won't disappoint!

A huge thank you to NShadows, Osaka Kasuga, GageWhitney, Kat Treefern, Shrilaraune, Faith-chan, Artemis Rayne, KellethMetheus, nertooold54, 44musicfreak44, Wondergirl, opheliablack, future cop, vanessadeanne, MyBrokenButterfly, jandjsalmon, porcelingods, mwsc2003, ladynep, Leto81, Quinn, DivineMist, Damara, skipperroo, and STarSHipper for your reviews of chapter 10. It really does mean the world to me that you chose to read and review.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: "Equilibrium"**

"Take off my shirt?" Nathan echoed incredulously.

Audrey's blue eyes widened in horror as she realized how she sounded. "Oh my God. I can't believe…"

"That was…."

"Awkward." Audrey grimaced.

"Was going to say unexpected," Nathan corrected.

"It's official. I have lost my freaking mind." Audrey sat on the edge of Nathan's bed, and then just as quickly jumped up.

"Does this have anything to do with what you saw?"

Audrey nodded.

"Care to share?"

She tried to recover her wits, launching into what she hoped sounded like her best professional voice. Detachment was what she needed, particularly when she was feeling such a gravitational pull to her partner, what she assumed were vestiges of the rather intense vision, hallucination, or whatever it was. "Do you have a scar—scratch that, make it three scars—just below your collarbone? Your left side, my right." Epic fail. In her own ears, her voice sounded like that of a nervous schoolgirl. It reminded her of when she was in high school and tripped over her own tongue around Josh Hopkins.

Nathan's brows furrowed ever-so-slightly. "I have all kinds of scars. Take your pick."

"These would be about two-and-a-half, three inches in length, running parallel to one another."

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. Do you still need me to…" Nathan ran his hand over his head, and Audrey could have sworn he looked nervous.

"Uh-no. No. That's okay." He was a strikingly handsome man with no concept of just how attractive he was. _No. He's my partner_, she corrected herself. _Stop looking at him otherwise._ _No matter what I saw, he's not _my_ Nathan._ She needed distance, and maybe a few shots of tequila to really make her forget that afternoon delight because seeing him with his dark hair mussed reminded her too much of that impossibly erotic dream. "I'm just going to get a cup of that coffee you're brewing."

"Parker, what did you see?"

"Myself getting a cup of coffee."

* * *

Nathan watched as she hurried from the bedroom. "What the hell was that?"

This went beyond Audrey being tipsy. _Strange._ She didn't even seem affected by the alcohol anymore. Something in that vision had her jumpy and….asking him to remove clothing?

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He'd be lying if he said her request didn't have him more intrigued than he wanted to admit. It was, on so many levels, not what he'd expected to hear, and yet when he did, there was a surprising hopefulness that tore through him. A small part of him had wanted to hear those words, even if he couldn't acknowledge that to her.

But this wasn't about him. It was about Audrey, and something had her freaked out. He couldn't help her if he stood around his bedroom dumbfounded.

Nathan followed her to the kitchen, where he watched as she dropped his sweatshirt onto the back of one of the chairs at the table. She poured coffee in one of the cups he had set out on the counter next to the coffee pot. "Want some?" She didn't wait for an answer as she poured hot liquid in a second cup. "Better let it cool a minute."

"What's going on with you?"

"Everything's fine. I'm good."

"Stop handling me, Parker."

He knew her too well. "Nathan, if I thought what I saw was relevant in some way to what's happening here in Haven, I would tell you. You know I would."

"But whatever it is has you spooked."

"Not spooked." _Lips on her neck, teasing, nibbling, caressing. The stubble from his chin rubbed her shoulder. Yearning rose within her. Close. So close. But it wasn't enough._ "Definitely not spooked."

"Audrey."

"Okay. Look, if I tell you, I'm going to be opening a huge can of worms."

Nathan paused, considering her warning. He felt like he was in a tug-of-war with that small voice inside his head, the one that whispered for him not to push her too hard, not to give her reason to leave. He wanted to know. That was his nature. But Audrey—well, Audrey wasn't just some case file. She was special. She was, above all else, his friend, and she needed to know that no matter what, he'd stand by her side.

"I'm pretty sure the worms are already crawling out."

She hesitated.

Nathan urged her on. "Come on. Talk me through this."

"You are the one I would normally talk to, but this goes beyond…" What would his reaction be? Would it strain their working relationship? Their friendship? Knowing she was the only person he could feel and dangling knowledge of a purported love affair just seemed cruel somehow, a reminder of what he didn't have in his life. On the other hand, if anyone could help her figure out what the hell was going on, it would be him.

"Whatever happened, let me help."

He was so earnest, another reason he was the one person whose friendship she prized most in the whole world._ Don't screw this up. Don't screw this up._

"I saw more of the whole beckoning thing. Happy?"

_Great, Audrey. Just great. Nothing says 'friend' like a little side dish of belligerence. It's not his fault your mind's been in the gutter._

"Beckoning?"

"Yeah, you know. C'mere." She curled her finger. "But in a more…sensual…way."

His teeth caught his bottom lip in what Audrey could only assume was a subconscious habit as he processed the information. "And you were beckoning _me_."

"I…yes."

"In a 'sensual' way," he repeated, his lips quirking slightly. _This _was it? _This_ was what had her so worried? He'd been mentally preparing himself for a vision of doom and gloom. This was anything but, as far as he was concerned. "Exactly how did that go again?"

Audrey groaned as she pulled on the sweatshirt whose retrieval started the whole mess. A lock of blond hair fell across her eyes, and she blew a puff of air up at it, trying to move it out of the way. She pushed up the sleeves of his too-big sweatshirt, grateful for the warmth but silently cursing it all the same. "Why did I tell you? Seriously, I've got to start ignoring you."

"And I wasn't wearing a shirt," Nathan persisted, pointing to his shoulder area. "Hence your question about scars."

Audrey reached for her cup of coffee, took a sip, and announced, "It shouldn't burn you now."

But Nathan would not be deterred as his hint of a smile broadened into a full-out grin. "So what were we doing that my shirt was off?"

It was official. Audrey wanted to smack him. Not that she generally advocated physical violence against friends, but his overt amusement was nearly unbearable. Her cheeks felt warm to her, and the way she figured it, she must have been somewhere slightly south of beet red.

Fine. If he wanted to go there, she'd give just as good as she got. "You really want to know what we were doing, Nathan? _Foreplay_."

He exhaled loudly. "Oh." With the flush of her cheeks, he wasn't expecting such a blunt response from her.

"Yeah. Oh."

A flurry of emotions ran through Nathan, even as he tried not to react to them. Was this for real? And if it was, what did that mean for the two of them other than complicating the hell out of their lives?

Truth was, Audrey was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman. Smart. Strong. Funny. Beautiful without even knowing it. In some ways, it made perfect sense to him. The fact was they spent most of their waking hours together and got along, trusted each other.

Then there was the not-so-small fact that he could feel her touch. He'd been rolling around the idea of fate in his mind, but it all came back this: they were partners, friends.

If they went beyond that, would he be able to watch her put her life on the line time and time again? Would he be able to do the job that needed to be done when so much was coming down around them and all he could think about was keeping her safe?

_You're already compromised,_ he told himself. _You'd do anything to keep her safe. And if she wanted you, you'd throw every rulebook out the window._

Just as quickly as the thoughts came to him, Nathan brushed them aside. It was all a moot point, as far as he was concerned. Audrey had never shown the slightest interest in him, even if everyone else around them did assume something was going on behind the scenes. And while she did not seem disgusted over the vision, she didn't seem particularly comfortable with the idea of the two of them either. So no, it wasn't exactly a come on.

But she had been affected. That much was evident from the deep blush in her cheeks and the breathiness of her answers. Nathan wasn't sure whether he was in heaven or hell.

"And you think this is a future event."

"Look, at this point, I don't know _what_ I am thinking. And don't look smug."

Nathan shot back a look, as though to say, _'Who? Me?' _

"It wasn't some sleazy fantasy. In fact, it was…very realistic and beautiful and emotional and…I can't believe I just said all that out loud." She groaned. "I should just shut up now. Or maybe you have a rock I could crawl under, hibernate for awhile, come back out in the spring." She watched as his eyebrows shot up. "Are you just going to let me keep talking?"

"Not polite to interrupt," he replied, his eyes shining with amusement and something else Audrey couldn't readily identify.

"This is a pointless discussion. You don't have the scars, and we've never even kissed, let alone…." Her voice trailed off.

"True enough. Other than the kiss on my cheek."

"Which was how you knew you could feel me."

A silence fell between them, and Audrey studied her partner. This wasn't fair to him. On so many levels. Life or fate or whatever caused their little corner of the world to twist from the norm had already done a doozy on him. And what she was doing only twisted that knife more. "One of these days, we're going to have to figure out what all of this means, but right now my brain hurts. My pride, too."

"I've not made this easy for you. I'm sorry," Nathan replied, half-frowning.

In some ways, everything was the same between them—the camaraderie, the teasing—and in other ways, the dynamics felt different ever since he had admitted he could feel her touch. He could tell it weighed on her. Hell, it weighed on him, too. She apologized every time they touched, like she thought he minded it or something.

While they were working, he could easily put it aside. But in their down time, it seemed more in the forefront of his mind. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries where she was concerned, be too needy, be too eager. And at the same time he wanted to overstep every single boundary, beg her for a backrub or…or…something, and never let her leave his sight.

"No. I'm sorry. I've put you in a weird spot, Nathan, telling you what I saw when it has to be a…a…fluke or something."

"I just want to keep my friend," he replied quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere. You might be wanting to run the other way after this whole conversation—"

"No, it's flattering."

She smiled as she played with the cuff of the sweatshirt, not quite able to meet his gaze. "Right. Because nothing says flattery better than your partner hallucinating about you."

"Did you get any sense for how far in the future your vision was supposed to be?"

"Not really," she shrugged as she peered up at him. "You looked the same as you do now, except for the part where you were naked."

He raised his eyebrows. "You never mentioned naked, just shirtless."

"Details," she replied with a wave of the hand.

"Let me get this straight. I was naked."

"It was foreplay, after all."

"You don't have to be naked to engage in foreplay," he defended.

She shot him a bemused look. "You've got to go out more."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "And the thing you remember most is three scars below my collarbone?"

The sound of disappointment in his voice made Audrey laugh. "Guess I'm not the only one with hurt pride."

"Ouch," he replied good-naturedly with a smile.

"In my defense and yours, I seemed to be worried about the scars or the injury that caused them. They were still pink."

"Hope you didn't dwell on it for long."

"I didn't."

Nathan fell silent a moment before finally saying, "I see three possibilities."

"Okay. One."

"Whatever happened with Lady Cassandra is causing you to lose your grip on reality. You were in my room, so you manufactured a memory to take place there."

"Ugh. Two."

"Someone or something else entirely is causing you to hallucinate. Wouldn't be the first time it's happened in Haven."

"Strangely, that sounds like a better alternative to me, but I'm not generally affected by people's afflictions. Which isn't to say it couldn't happen just that it normally doesn't. What's three?"

"You did have a vision of the future. You said the scars were pink. Whatever caused the scars hasn't happened yet but will."

Audrey drew in a breath. Nathan left out the part about them becoming lovers, deliberately, she presumed. "Those are some interesting theories. So what do we do?"

"Wait and see what happens. If you're going insane, that'll be evident soon enough."

"Gee, thanks."

"And if a troubled person is causing you to hallucinate, we should start to see a pattern crop up among others."

He left the rest unsaid as he reached for his cup of coffee and lifted it to his lips.

"I know you think I'm weirded out by the fact you can feel me, but I'm actually really glad you can. I hated the thought of you being totally disconnected from everyone around you."

"It has its perks. Folks don't pry that way, don't really bother me. Except for maybe Duke, who is a pain in the ass no matter how numb it is."

"But it's no way to live." Audrey stopped and rolled her eyes. "Like I'm such an expert with my crazy-busy social calendar."

"Just so we're clear on this, I don't want you to feel like you need to…be anything other than what you've been."

"Damn. I guess that rules out pity sex. Or being FWB. Come on, Nathan. I know you don't expect me to be your personal pincushion." She paused for a moment, before half-joking, "I am so grateful that tomorrow morning, I'm going to be able to blame this entire conversation on the alcohol."

But Nathan's brows were furrowed. "You pity me, Audrey?"

She could see his mood darkening. Pity had been a poor choice of words on her part. She felt for him, yes. To not be able to experience touch—Audrey couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to be so cut off from everyone and everything, not to mention the logistical nightmare of just doing simple things, like taking a shower, shaving, or finding a light switch in a darkened room. Guess that explained why he had a preference for a five o'clock shadow and nightlights.

But pity him? Not in the way he was thinking. She wanted more for Nathan than for him to turn into a cranky hermit. But it wasn't as though she thought he was pitiful or pathetic. Far from it. He was…strong. Steady. Funny as hell. Smart. And, oh yeah, off limits.

She cocked her head slightly, drawling her response. "Yeah, I do pity you. You call this swill 'coffee'?"

Nathan finally took a sip from his cup. "What's wrong with it?"

She laughed. "And now you know where that pity comes in."

"Just because you drink dessert…"

"Do you even keep creamer in the house?" she asked opening a cupboard.

"If I'm going to drink coffee, I want it to taste like—"

"Swill?" she shot back, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Coffee."

"I have a theory. Maybe if we take that walk you mentioned, it will make the coffee taste better."

"I thought you didn't feel up to a walk. Something about not wanting to be a fall down drunk," Nathan reminded her.

"It's weird, but I don't really feel the alcohol anymore."

"That _is_ weird, considering that fifteen minutes ago, you were slurring your words and stumbling into me."

She shrugged, briefly wondering if they'd uncovered another Haven mystery, and decided she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. "So maybe I'm going crazy, but on the bright side, I seem to have regained my equilibrium."

Maybe Audrey had regained her balance, but as Nathan watched her once again push the sleeves up on his too-large UMaine sweatshirt she wore, he was quite certain he'd lost his.


	12. Energizer Bunny

******Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: ** Okay, folks. I know I'm about as slow as Christmas. Peace offering: This chapter is pretty long. There are several details that will play into future chapters.

I just want to say how much I appreciate your feedback for Phoenix Rising. A huge thank you goes out to RedAthena79, PsychVamp, KellethMetheus, DivineMist, FallenOutTheWindow, Elementary Magpie, porcelingods, aqiran, Artemis Rayne, ladynep, anonymous, Shrilaraune, Aedemmair, Damara, AirStriker, Caeria, jandjsalmon, vanessadeanne, nertooold54, and Faith-chan. Your feedback for the previous chapter and encouragement really did make this writer smile.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: "The Energizer Bunny"**

"You're not taking care of yourself," Julia Carr gently chastised Audrey after the blonde woman opened the door to her room at the B&B.

"Just my luck. A doctor who makes house calls," Audrey replied with a smile and stepped aside for her friend to enter. "And so late, too."

"We're a dying breed," Julia replied glibly. "Just finished a shift at the M.E.'s office. Thought I'd stop in before heading home. You do realize you've been nearly impossible to get hold of. You lose your phone?"

"Not exactly. I've just been…busy." Audrey words sounded lame in her own ears, so she imagined they wouldn't sound much more convincing to Julia.

"Weren't you supposed to be taking it easy or something?" Julia pulled off her jacket and truly looked at Audrey for the first time. She raised an eyebrow upon seeing the too-large sweatshirt Audrey was wearing.

"Was supposed to, but a case came up. And I've been following up on some leads related to what Lady Cassandra said."

"Audrey, I mean it. You have to take care of yourself. What happened with you and Lady Cassandra at the fun fest…"

"Was a fluke. I'm fine. _Really_. Could I get you something to drink?"

Julia nodded. "Maybe just some water."

Audrey reached into the mini-fridge and pulled out a water bottle. She handed it to Julia, who unscrewed the cap and commented conversationally, "I saw Nathan on the sidewalk heading home."

"He walked me back here."

"You two on a date?" Julia's replied, her voice sugary.

Audrey looked at her sideways as she settled on the end of her bed. "Why would you think that?"

"For starters, you're wearing what I assume is his sweatshirt. It's over when you're in clothes-borrowing territory. Next thing you know, you'll be staying at his place."

"I forgot I had this on," Audrey replied almost absently, though she wasn't about to admit that she had stayed the previous night in Nathan's guest bedroom. Or that she had once again been offered the guest room. No need to encourage Julia. "It's not like that with us."

Julia sat on an overstuffed chair and drew her legs under her. "I guess with Nathan's affliction having a relationship can't be easy. On the other hand, if ever there was an advantage…he's got to be like the Energizer Bunny. A man who doesn't feel…he can just keep going and going…"

"Will you stop?" Audrey asked with an embarrassed grin. She pointed at Julia, shaking her head in disbelief. "Nathan and Duke think you're so innocent…"

"Oh, Duke knows better."

Audrey raised an eyebrow. "There's a story there."

"Not worth telling," Julia demurred.

"So this is pick on Audrey night?"

Julia shrugged. "Just pointing out what should be obvious." She took another sip of her bottled water.

"It's not like that with Nathan and me."

"So you see him as more of a brother?"

Audrey hesitated. No, definitely not as a brother. "I trust him. He's my friend. My partner."

"And you think Nathan sees you in the same way?"

"I know he does. He can…he can feel me. And never once has he tried anything."

"_What?_ His idiopathic neuropathy has gone into remission?" Julia asked, her blue eyes widening.

Audrey shook her head. "Just me." Julia looked at her questioningly, and Audrey added, "He only feels me."

"That's _weird_. And that's pretty damn amazing! You think this has anything to do with your mom?"

Audrey didn't correct Julia. "Lucy evidently was pretty weird herself."

"So let me get this straight. Nathan can feel you, and there's nothing going on between you two?"

"Why would there be?" Audrey asked nonchalantly.

Julia nearly snorted. "The better question is why wouldn't there be? You're the _only_ person in the whole world that he can feel, as far as we know. I know that doesn't obligate you, but _still_."

"He's not interested in me that way. He hasn't once done anything, said anything, that goes beyond friendship."

"Oh, Audrey. Audrey, Audrey, Audrey. You are so oblivious."

"You really think you know what's going on with Nathan better than I do? Come on, I'm a detective. I make a living noticing things."

"Except what's right in front of you," Julia challenged. "Look, I've known him for a long time. I saw how he was right after what happened with the chameleon and then again after Lady Cassandra grabbed hold of you and you blacked out. He was frantic with worry. That's not a man who's only interested in your friendship."

"You're wrong."

"Not about this, I'm not. He's decent almost to a fault, but don't let that fool you. What man wouldn't want the only woman he can feel? Especially when that woman is someone he gets along with, someone he admires, someone he cares about. And don't take this wrong, but you're pretty cute, too. Knowing him, he's just trying to keep it under wraps so you won't feel awkward or obligated or some equally noble but misguided notion like that. So my question is do you really only see him as a friend?"

"How did we get on this topic?" Audrey asked uncomfortably, wishing she hadn't divulged that Nathan could feel her. Was it really even her place to say anything? How was it that Julia knew how to drag information from her anyway? It was one thing to be confronted with a hypothetical situation—the visions—but for Julia who was very tangible to be saying that there was something there…

"I'm just one of those people who's easy to talk to," Julia replied with a grin. "Seriously, you're kidding yourself if you think that 'friend' and 'partner' is all Nathan sees when he looks at you."

"So whatever happened between you and the guy?"

"Which one?" Julia asked.

"How many are there? The one you were supposed to meet at the fun fest before everything went to hell."

"Oh, you mean before typical Haven happened. Yeah, we rescheduled and Chase took me out for lunch today."

"And?"

"And what?" Julia asked.

"You expect me to spill about my non-relationship with Nathan, and you aren't going to tell me about your real date with Chase?"

"There's not much to tell. He's an ordinary guy. Works at a funeral home." Audrey opened her mouth to say something, but Julia stopped her, "Not a word, smart ass. We had lunch, we talked about the weirdness that surrounds us, and then I went to work."

"Are you going to see him again?"

"I think so." She paused. "Actually, I did see him in a professional capacity a little later. He came by the morgue to pick up Lady Cassandra's body."

_Your past is fragmented. I can see this in you. You are many. You are one. You will be who you once were. And you will be no more, Audrey Parker._

"You mentioned you had been following up on some leads related to Lady Cassandra. Have you found out anything?" Julia's words pulled Audrey from her thoughts.

"All I know is I don't know anything," Audrey confessed. "Everything's been a dead end. No one I've talked to remembers a little boy drowning or nearly drowning or masks melding to the faces of those who wear them."

"Yeah, and you'd think that would be something they would remember."

"But that's just it. The memory's a funny thing around here."

"Kind of like the truth," Julia added. "Hey, this might be a long-shot because I sort of figure Mom was in the cover-up business like I am these days, but do you want to look through her papers from around that time? Maybe it'll turn something up, give you something to go on."

"I'd like that."

"I'll pull them out when I get home. You can swing by tomorrow and pick them up."

"Yeah, when Nathan puts the spark plugs back in my car," Audrey muttered.

Julia grinned. "He seriously removed the spark plugs from your car?"

"Because a certain doctor ordered me not to drive for twenty-four hours."

"I _knew_ I liked him. And he knew you'd try. That's how you found out, right? How can you not be all over that? Are you really not attracted to him?"

Audrey didn't know what to say. No matter what she said, she was sunk. If she admitted she thought Nathan was very easy on the eyes, Julia would pounce. And good heavens, if his body was anything like what she'd seen in her hallucination…

On the other hand, if she denied being attracted to him, Julia would accuse her of lying or being crazy or brain-dead.

So she said nothing.

"Are you on the Pill?" Julia asked, realizing she wasn't going to get an answer from Audrey about Nathan.

"_Seriously_? I am not having this conversation."

Julia reached down next to her and withdrew a small prescription pad from her purse and scribbled a few notations before handing it to Audrey. "You'll thank me later."

Audrey glanced at the prescription and set it on the bed next to her. "You are a pushy, pushy woman."

"I come by it honestly. I'm the product of a pushy mother." Julia glanced at Audrey's alarm clock. 11:20. "I should get going. See you sometime tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll see you." Audrey walked Julia to the door. "Thanks for stopping by. I think."

"A little girl talk is good for the soul."

"I've never really had girl friends before," Audrey admitted.

"Guess it's up to me to keep you honest."

She bolted the door after Julia left and leaned against it. Was it possible that Julia was right? Audrey had thought the vision she had came out of nowhere, but maybe it hadn't.

_No. Stop it, Audrey._ Nathan was adamant that co-workers shouldn't cross that line. When he found out about the office pool, he'd been less than amused. Julia had to be wrong. That was all there was to it.

Exhaling loudly, Audrey dragged herself to the small bathroom and washed her face before heading back to the bedroom to peel off her jeans in favor of pajama pants. She began to tug at the sleeves of the sweatshirt to pull it off, but it was warm and smelled good, like sandalwood and something she couldn't quite identify. She rubbed the fleece and settled into the bed, still wearing it.

And as she drifted off to sleep, it finally occurred to her. It smelled like _him_.

* * *

"So a weird thing happened this morning."

"Not in Haven," Nathan deadpanned as he turned around from where he stood at the filing cabinet in their joint office.

Audrey looked down at the sweatshirt she carried in her hand, thought about passing it over to Nathan, but ended up placing it on the back of her chair instead. "Okay, so maybe I overuse the word _weird_. It just fits for a lot of things around here. I saw Mrs. Carmichael as I was leaving. She said she was taking her dog out right around daybreak and saw someone messing with my car."

"Did you call the police?"

Audrey rolled her eyes. "Everyone's a comedian. You going to let me talk?"

"You going to spit it out?" he asked with a lopsided smile.

"Fine. Thanks for putting my spark plugs back in the car," she said as she slid onto her chair. "Though I'm not really sure why I'm thanking you, considering you stole them in the first place."

"Details."

"You're awfully bright-eyed for a guy who got home late and was up early. What are you? Man or Energizer Bunny?" Julia's words came back to Audrey as soon as the words came from her mouth. She wondered if her cheeks were coloring. That conversation certainly put a new spin on things, as did her own little peep into…what? The future? Crazy land? Did Nathan want more from her than he said? And if he did, what then? _Let it go, Audrey. Let it go…._

"Been drinking swill. Enough to keep an elephant awake."

Audrey couldn't help but grin.

"Heard you two had some excitement out at Brand House." Garland Wuornos's gravelly voice infiltrated the detectives' office.

"No more than the usual excitement," Audrey replied looking from the Chief, who stood in the doorway of the office, to Nathan. The younger Wuornos, she noted, had tensed up, from the set of his shoulders to the harshness in his expression.

"No such thing as usual," the Chief replied, as he ambled further into the office, simultaneously removing a pack of Nicotine gum from his shirt pocket. "I think it'd be best if we don't over share."

"Right. Because as public servants, transparency isn't really an issue," Nathan replied, his tone tepid but the look of disapproval on his face more than making up for a lack of excitement in his tone.

Audrey looked from Nathan to his father. "At this point, we're not even sure what information there is to share. We won't know if it's blood until we hear back from the lab."

"Which probably won't be until tomorrow at the earliest," Chief Wuornos replied with a slight nod.

"Patience is a virtue," Nathan commented.

"Especially in Haven, apparently," Audrey added with a sigh. "While I have you here, I've got a question for you, Chief."

"This'll be good," Nathan remarked under his breath.

The older man's bushy brows shot upward. "Yeah?"

"Lady Cassandra said some things before she died, things about Lucy."

"Is that your question?"

Audrey frowned at the Chief's gruffness. Nathan recognized the look on her face; he'd seen it enough times. She was preparing to do battle if need be. "She mentioned that she saw Lucy do some pretty amazing things. Does suspending a man mid-air ring a bell?"

"No," the chief replied flatly.

"What about bringing back to life a little boy who had drowned?" Six months ago, the question would have seemed ridiculous to Audrey. Yet in that time, she had seen more "impossible" things happen than she'd ever dreamed.

The chief's nostrils flared slightly. Looking to his son, he asked in a tone perfectly demonstrative of his annoyance, "Do you two not talk?"

"We talk. The problem is you don't," Nathan replied evenly.

"No, you just don't like the answers I'm giving you," the Chief shot back.

"Not when you're evading the question."

Audrey's brows furrowed. "I'm missing something."

The chief turned to her. "You're wasting your time and mine. The only person who drowned around that time was Nathan here's mother, and Lucy Ripley sure as hell didn't bring _her_ back to life."

With that, the Chief left the small office, slamming the door behind him.

"That was…" she had no words. She looked to her partner. "I'm sorry, Nathan."

"You've got nothing to apologize for." Nathan dropped a file on his desk that landed with a loud _plop_. "He's a stubborn man. Doesn't like to be questioned."

"It's more than that. He still misses your mom. It's raw with him." Audrey shook her head slightly. "I wish I knew what Lucy really has to do with this. What _I _have to do with this," she amended.

"What happened to my mom isn't your fault. We don't even know that there is a connection there."

Audrey hoped he was right. There was just something in the Chief's vehemence that struck her as personally directed at Lucy. "At this rate, we're never going to know anything." She leaned against her desk. "Julia stopped by last night."

Nathan nodded. He'd thought he had seen her drive by as he was walking home from the B&B. "She fuss at you?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Audrey frowned. "Whose side are you on?"

"The side that keeps you safe and healthy. You tell her about the visions?"

"No, but she did offer her mom's medical journal. She thought I might be able to find something Eleanor wrote during that time that would shed some light on the things Lady Cassandra said since answers are hard to come by around here."

"My dad knows more than he's letting on," Nathan commented. "He told me to let it go last time I talked to him."

"And knowing you, you didn't."

Nathan shrugged.

"That stubbornness—it runs in the family." With sudden determination of her own, Audrey headed toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

She replied matter-of-factly, "To either get some answers or really piss off the Chief."

"I'd say he's already pissed off. Want me to come?"

"No. He told you to let it go. He didn't tell me to."

Audrey headed down the hall toward the Chief's office. The door was closed, but she was sure she heard the sound of metal (maybe his waste bin?) hitting something (the desk?) within. She briefly considered knocking on the door but determined etiquette wasn't going to get her anywhere. When she opened the door, she saw the Chief bent over picking up papers that were strewn on the floor.

"Didn't realize we had an open door policy," he grumbled.

"Didn't think you'd open the door if I played nice," she replied as she knelt and began to assist him.

"I have nothing to say to you." He placed a pile of papers on the mahogany desk.

Audrey passed him several papers that she had retrieved. "I think you do. Months ago when I came here, you promised me you would help me find out more about my past, more about Lucy. And it's been right under my nose all this time. You knew Lucy. Knew her and never said a word."

"You never asked."

"And if I had?"

"You think you want to know."

"I know I do."

"Knowing's overrated."

"What happened with Nathan's mom and Lucy? Did they know each other, too?"

"You'd best leave the past alone. There are plenty of Troubles without borrowing them." His warning tone was not lost upon her.

"I want to help. That's why I'm here. And I've been around long enough to know that there's no such thing as coincidence." She sought the Chief's eyes, gently pleading with him. "I don't know how or why I've been drawn here, but I think you do. Please. Tell me what you know. _Please_."

But the Chief quickly shook his head. "You and Nate should follow up on the Brand case. Go out there this afternoon."

"I'm not letting this go."

The Chief met her gaze and said nothing.

* * *

From the passenger seat of the blue Bronco, Audrey looked up at the Nákúset Summit, the rising presence of Brand House stirring her curiosity. Soon, the road would disappear into the woods, and they would begin their ascent to the Brand property. For now, though, she had a clear view of the enormous stone house.

"You've been quiet," Nathan commented.

"Figured you'd be glad for it."

"You've not said much since going to the Chief's office."

"There's not much to say. I begged. Not hands and knees begging, but I said please twice. And earnestly." Her tone was flippant, but Nathan knew from the way her eyes focused ahead, she was reeling from the encounter.

"I'm sorry, Parker."

She shrugged. "What's there to be sorry about? I've gone this long without his help. I'll just have to dig somewhere else. I've been thinking about going back to Ohio."

"What?" Try as he might to avoid it, Nathan's normally unflappable tone sounded alarmed.

Audrey turned to look at him and could see the white-fisted grip he had on the steering wheel. Did he think she would leave for good? Sure seemed like it. "Just for a few days. I thought I'd visit the sisters at St. Mary's. See if I can't wrestle some information out of them. Find out who brought me to the orphanage and anything else they know."

"Don't they have confidentiality rules?" Nathan relaxed his grip, Audrey noted. Did he even realize his reaction?

"There's got to be a way to get around them. Last time I requested the files, I was willing to take no for an answer. I thought it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things."

"And now?"

"I'm pretty sure it does. Something connects me to this place. But if I'm Lucy, how did I have childhood that I remember? I don't know what they're keeping from me, but maybe it will shed some light that the Chief isn't willing to do just yet. So. Bleeding trees," she said, changing the subject. "Maybe bleeding trees."

"I know what blood smells like. No maybe. Definitely blood."

"You and that sensitive nose of yours. So what do you think we'll find on our follow up? Scabs?"

Nathan grimaced. "What an image."

"Think we can score an invite into the house? I would love is to go inside that place. Look around. I've never seen anything like it before."

"But you lived in big cities. DC. Boston."

"But there's something about that place, you know? What's the story there?"

Nathan cleared his throat. "You've got a whole book on it, Parker."

"And you're avoiding discussing it. Why is that?"

"No comment."

"Nu-uh, Wuornos. After stealing my spark plugs—"

"I gave them back," he interjected.

"—you owe me."

"How long are you planning on cashing in?"

"As long as I can get away with it. So spill it. Why don't you like Brand House?"

He dithered a moment before finally admitting, "It gives me the creeps."

"Run that by me again?"

"It's irrational…and childish…"

"Really, Nathan? You are, like, the bravest person I know. You meet the Troubles head-on, and in all the crazy things we've seen and done, not once have you flinched or hesitated. How can Brand House of all places give you the creeps?"

"You're the one who doesn't like heights."

"This _so_ isn't about me."

"Every town has its urban legends."

"Some towns more than others," Audrey remarked. "I take it there's one surrounding Brand House."

"Ephraim Brand was one of the early settlers in this area. Some said he was a visionary, prosperous because of foresight and guts. Others said he had sold his soul to the devil. He commissioned the building of Brand House on Nákúset Summit on land that had once belonged to the Mik'maq people. Word is the soil is still stained from the blood spilled in the conquest to remove those people."

"How long ago was that?"

"Late 1600's, give or take a few years."

"Okay. That's hokey. And blood stains don't last on dirt that long. Of course, the normal rules don't apply around here. Is there a connection between the trees and—"

"The trees aren't that old. Did some research. They were planted by the current heir's grandfather."

Audrey's eyes brightened. "Still, you have to admit that there's an interesting connection between the legend and what we saw yesterday."

"It's a legend, not a true account."

She frowned. "Did you really just do that?"

"Do what?"

She reached across the bench seat and flicked his ear. Her motion was met by a loud, "Ow!" from him. "What was that for?" he asked.

"You were trying to sidetrack me. If it's just a legend, why does the place creep you out? It's not about the legend, is it?"

Nathan stared ahead silently.

"Come on, Nathan," she persisted.

Grumbling slightly, he finally answered, "When I was a boy, my class took a school field trip there. Must've been first grade."

"Hmmm."

"What?"

"Just getting a mental image. Were you out here for a tour?"

"Learning how maple syrup is made," he explained.

"Right. What every kid should know."

"At least the ones who like pancakes."

"That doesn't sound so traumatic or creepy."

"I got separated from the group. Found my way back to the house. I remember standing in the driveway looking up at it, seeing a woman in the window looking down on me. And then she was gone."

"She moved away from the window?"

"No, I mean she vanished."

Audrey considered his words. "You were just a kid. Do you think maybe your imagination was getting the better of you?"

Nathan shook his head. "The Troubles were back."

Audrey mentally weighed the reliability of an account from twenty-seven years ago against the incurrence of the Troubles. "So what happened next?"

"I darted back into the woods, looking for my group. I came to a clearing, and I remember it smelled really sweet there. I stopped and listened, thinking I would hear my class and know where to go. I heard a low murmur of voices. Whispers that I couldn't understand. The voices were overlapping, but there was no one around."

"Sounds like an episode of _Lost_. Was there a polar bear?"

"Now who's the comedian?" The engine of the Bronco revved up as they began to climb the steep hill leading to Brand House.

"So what did you do?"

"Freaked out," he admitted. "I turned to run away and ran right into Ephraim Brand himself."

"The guy who had this place built? That would make him roughly 300 years old."

"His namesake. Evidently it's a tradition for all the firstborn sons in the family to be named Ephraim."

"So your story had a happy ending. He helped you find your group, right?"

Nathan hesitated. "Right."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Pause."

"We returned to the house. My class was gathered there. My dad had shown up. He seemed so angry."

"At you?" Audrey asked, confused.

"No, at Brand. I left with him, and he told me I was to never go near the man again."

"You ever ask him why?"

Nathan shot a quick look at Audrey but said nothing.

"Interesting that he sent us out here today. Of course, you're not six anymore."

"Try telling that to the Chief," Nathan replied as he parked the Bronco in the driveway of the vast estate.

Audrey opened the door and slid out of the vehicle. Nathan followed suit, and the two walked to the front door. As Nathan was about to reach for the doorbell, they heard footsteps approaching them. They turned to see Charlie Thornhill.

"Charlie," Nathan greeted his former classmate. "You remember my partner, Audrey Parker."

"Yes, of course," the balding man replied. "It's good to see you again, Officer Parker."

"Likewise, Mr. Thornill."

"Please call me Charlie."

"We came by to follow up on yesterday's incident," Audrey supplied. "Any changes?"

Charlie nodded. "The blood or whatever it was has dried and appears to be flaking off."

"Lab results aren't back from Bangor," Nathan mentioned. "Anything else unusual happen out here?"

"Other than bleeding trees and that crack in the ground, which took three hired men hours to fill, no."

"Mind if we get another look at those trees?" Nathan asked.

"Be my guest. In fact, I'll go with you."

As the threesome moved toward the path that led to the maple grove, Audrey found her pace slowing. Nathan looked back at her, his expression questioning her.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute," she told him. "And I won't get lost," she added with a small smile.

Nathan nodded, and he and Thornhill continued down the path. Audrey, in turn, gravitated back toward the house. Leaning against the bumper of the Bronco, she looked up at the large stone structure, studying the windows as Nathan must have done as a boy. The stirring of a curtain from a second-story window caught her eye, but she could see no one there.

She wanted to go inside. Fiercely. Not that she had any official excuse to venture in there.

_Another day_, she promised herself. For now, she had a job to do.

Leaving the familiarity of the Bronco, she started to cross the driveway toward the path to follow Nathan and Brand House's gardener.

"Wait," she heard a slightly accented, deep voice from behind her.

Audrey spun around and saw a tall, dark-haired man closing the distance between them. She recognized him immediately. This was the man she'd seen yesterday on her way to the _Herald_, the man who had disappeared from her sight before she'd had the opportunity to speak with him.

"You've come back," he uttered, his expression and voice softening.

"Do you know me?" Audrey asked, searching his face for answers but only finding more questions as his eyes seemed to water.

The man opened his mouth to answer her, but before he had the chance to speak, the snarling roar of…something…pierced the afternoon air, sending a chill down her spine. The subsequent panicked yelling only served, under the circumstances, to confirm her instinctive fear.

Audrey drew her 9mm from its home on her hip and took off running toward the path following the sound of what had to be Charlie Thornhill's calls. The fact that she only heard his bellowing and not Nathan's only served to speed her steps. Behind her she could hear the man from the house following her, keeping pace with her gallop.

"Nathan!" she called out.

"We're over here!" Thornhill replied from where he knelt next to Nathan.

Audrey's mouth went dry as she saw that Nathan's heavy canvas jacket was shredded around his left shoulder, as was the shirt underneath, and from the blood pouring from the area, his skin, as well.

"What happened?" she asked feverishly as she rushed to his side.

"Mountain lion," Charlie explained.

Assessing his wound, she gently chided him. "What are you doing getting attacked by a mountain lion? I can't take you anywhere." She tried to keep her tone light, but Nathan must've seen the fear in her eyes.

"At least it's not a polar bear," he joked weakly trying to comfort her. "I don't feel it."

Audrey pulled the shredded jacket away from the wounded area. Blood. _So much blood_. "I need a compress."

The dark-haired man from the house peeled off his sweater and wordlessly handed it to Audrey, who noted that it was cashmere, as she pressed it against Nathan's skin. He hissed in pain at the contact. "Now I feel it."

"I'm sorry," Audrey said stepping aside as Charlie took over pressing the article of clothing against the wound. Her touch was the last thing he needed at the moment.

"We've got to get you to the hospital."

Nathan looked down at his shoulder and scowled. "Have I mentioned lately that I really don't like this place?"

* * *

To be continued...


	13. Typical Strangeness

******Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you, as always, for the reviews, PMs, and story alerts regarding _Phoenix Rising_. It makes my little heart do a happy dance and the plot bunnies (not to be confused with dust bunnies or the Energizer Bunny) want to frolic, as well. Okay, now that I've weirded you all out, I do want to say thank you again. I mean it sincerely. The fact that you're still reading after all this time reminds me of why I feel so fortunate to be a small part of this amazing fandom.

And now...on with the story.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: "Typical Strangeness"**

"I'm going to be fine."

As usual, Nathan Wuornos conveyed an air of calm. The way Audrey figured, he was calm enough for both of them as he lay on the hospital exam table. "No offense, Nathan, but you don't exactly have a feel for these things. I'd rather hear it from the doc."

A nurse took a pair of shears in one hand and pulled at the hem of Nathan's tattered and bloody shirt, un-tucking it with her other hand. Audrey took a couple of steps back in the small room to offer the medical personnel more space. She was just thankful she hadn't been chased out yet, either by Nathan or the hospital staff.

The nurse made quick work of the t-shirt he wore, cutting it off him while Nathan quietly grumbled about liking the shirt. Audrey rolled her eyes. As if it was salvageable anyway with the rips and the blood that would surely stain it.

As the nurse pulled the fabric away, Audrey could see Nathan's shoulder and chest area were covered with blood, some of which had dried to a dark rust color and some of which was fresh. She knew some people got sick at the sight of blood—Josh Hopkins came to mind when she remembered the profuse bleeder she had after getting hit in the nose with a basketball in gym class—but luckily Audrey typically didn't mind the sight of blood that much.

Of course, it was different when it was Nathan's blood. Then it worried her. He may have thought he was perfectly all right, but for all he knew, he could have a stake going right through his heart. Hypothetically speaking. She really needed to stop reading those vampire novels.

"Let's see what we're dealing with." Dr. Pennycuff, who looked like he had been practicing medicine since the Middle Ages if his wrinkles were any indication, rubbed disinfectant on the wounds, cleaning the area and examining three parallel lacerations below Nathan's collarbone. After a few moments of studying the area, the elderly doctor gave his prognosis. "You're going to be fine."

Nathan shot Audrey a look, silently saying, '_See_.'

Glancing at Nathan's rather thick medical file, the doctor added, "Though I keep thinking you're the reason the med center discontinued its buy twelve trips to the ER, get one free promotion."

"Things happen."

The doctor chuckled, evidently accustomed to Nathan's nonchalant attitude toward injury. "You say a mountain lion did this to you?"

"From what I could see," Nathan replied.

"You've lost a moderate amount of blood. These lacerations are deep."

"I don't feel it."

"One benefit of your idiopathic neuropathy, but you mustn't allow your condition to give you a false sense of invulnerability," the doctor warned. "You may not be able to feel the pain, but your body has been through an ordeal, and you need to allow yourself time to heal."

It was Audrey's turn to shoot Nathan her own look.

The doctor looked more closely at Nathan's injuries. "The wounds are certainly consistent with an animal attack, though it's odd. I can't even recall the last time one of the big cats was spotted around these parts. Where were you?"

"Brand Estate."

Audrey watched as the doctor's face grew ashen. He quickly brushed aside his reaction, affecting a more impassive expression. "You should have a rabies vaccination as a precaution. Normally I would stitch wounds like these, but with animal bites and scratches, it increases the likelihood of contamination and infection. Butterfly enclosures will hopefully suffice, given your history of quick healing."

Nathan nodded. Audrey's eyes widened slightly at the reference to his quick healing. Now that she thought about it, he did seem to recover fairly quickly from injury. The gun shot wound, the burns, the fight with Duke… But she had never really put it together before.

"The vaccination must be administered in the buttocks."

Audrey cleared her throat. "Right. That's my cue to skedaddle."

Nathan turned his head to look at her. "You going to be around, Parker?"

"Pfft. Somebody's got to make sure you behave." She left him with a half-smile on his face. Good sign, she decided as she leaned against the wall outside the exam room.

"Skedaddle?" she repeated to herself. "Who says skedaddle?"

Glancing around the waiting area, she noted Charlie Thornhill was sitting in a chair in the corner, looking positively stricken. '_What does he have to feel bad about?'_ she wondered. She was about to approach him when she saw Chief Wuornos enter the area, walking with purpose.

"Parker," he greeted her brusquely.

"Chief. He's going to be okay."

"I figured."

Audrey furrowed her brows, an expression not lost on the man who stood not far from her.

"He in there?" the older man asked pointing to the room from which Audrey emerged moments before.

"He is. Getting a shot in the ass, actually."

"Too bad he can't feel it."

Audrey frowned. "You _could _show a little more concern."

Garland was taken aback by Audrey's pointed remark. "I'm just going off your expression. If it was serious, you wouldn't be out here talking to yourself or griping at me."

"No. I'd be by his side."

"Speaking of which, you going to tell me what the hell happened out there?"

"I'm still trying to piece it all together myself. Nathan says it was a mountain lion."

For a brief instant, Audrey watched his cool exterior melt, and she could picture the concerned father rather than the irate boss. Just as quickly, his mask returned. "You see it?"

"No, but I know someone else who did." She tilted her head in the direction of Charlie Thornhill.

"Then what are you standing around here for?"

Audrey had to bite her tongue to keep her words in check. She wouldn't be doing herself any favors if she got fired for insubordination. Garland Wuornos was not waiting for a response, at any rate. He walked past Audrey and went into Nathan's room.

She turned her attention back to Charlie, making her way past the nurse's station and toward the Brand Estate's resident horticulturalist.

"How is he?" Charlie Thornhill's near-unibrow rose when he saw Audrey approaching.

"He's going to be fine."

"That…that's good."

Audrey sank into a chair next to him. "Charlie, could you tell me a little more about what happened out there?"

"There's nothing to tell. You already know everything," he insisted.

"Just walk me through your steps again. Maybe it will spur a detail you didn't remember earlier."

"I'd rather forget," the man admitted with a sigh. But with Audrey's pleading look, he complied. "Nathan and I went to look at the maple trees. We were in the grove. It was quiet. Still. He was checking one of the tapped trees. And then without warning, a mountain lion cried out and dropped down from one of the branches and began to just…_tear_ at him."

"What did you do?"

"I-I'm not even sure. It all happened so fast. You know Nathan—he didn't even cry out. He just tried to pry it off himself. And then the animal was gone."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah. That's when I began calling. And you saw the rest."

"Was there anything else?"

"I—" His eyes became downcast, glancing at the small table to his left. A perfect, shiny red apple sat atop the table. "No, there's nothing else. Nathan didn't hear anything, did he?"

"He didn't mention it." Audrey sought the man's eyes, but he wouldn't look at her. He seemed fixated on the apple. "Charlie, did you hear something you've not mentioned?"

"No. It was very quiet. Very still."

"Is that your apple?"

"No. Why?"

"You keep looking at it," she pointed out.

Thornhill managed to pull his gaze from the fruit to finally look at her. "Trying to identify the variety. Sorry. It's hard to turn off the horticulturalist in me, just as I assume it's difficult for you to turn off your cop instincts."

"Of course."

She had to hand it to him. Charlie Thornhill was a quick thinker. Not that she was buying his explanation for one second. Strange how apples were popping up. First with the man she saw outside the _Herald_, the same man who was at Brand Estate. Then Vince and his "apple allergy." And now with Charlie? She didn't believe in coincidences, especially when they happened in Haven.

"Charlie, who was the man at the estate?"

"The man?" he repeated.

"The one who gave Nathan his—"

"What's this I hear about Nathan getting mauled by a mountain lion?" Duke had entered the hospital waiting room and made a beeline for Audrey. She had been so wrapped up in questioning Thornhill, she hadn't even noticed his presence until he spoke. Duke shook his head. "Sounds like the punchline to a really bad joke."

"Duke. I'm glad you're here. I think."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He paused. "Okay. That sounded better in my head."

"Word travels fast." She looked at Charlie before standing. "Excuse me for just a minute."

"Small town." Duke steered Audrey away from the other man. "How is he?"

"He's going to be okay. He was wounded in the shoulder area," she unconsciously pointed to her own shoulder. "He has some deep lacerations, lost what the doctor called a 'moderate amount' of blood, though I'd hate to see what he considers a lot of blood…" her voice trailed off, and Duke could see the strain in her features.

"He's going to be fine. You said so yourself," Duke assured her.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" she replied trying to buck up. "So the doctors are getting him bandaged and vaccinated."

"Sounds like he's going to have some pretty cool scars. A little better than getting caught by a fish hook or falling down the stairs, wouldn't you say?"

_The scars_.

Audrey had been so focused on getting Nathan to the hospital and making sure he was okay, it hadn't even dawned on her. The vision. He had joked with her that they would soon figure out whether her vision was just her going crazy or whether it truly foretold what would be. And if it was real? Audrey's stomach fluttered.

Okay, Audrey. Getting ahead of yourself. You don't even know that the wounds will match the scars. And even if they do, it doesn't mean anything.

"So you've seen him?"

Audrey nodded. "I just came out a few minutes ago. The Chief is in there with him now."

Duke shook his head. "Not sure which Nathan will think is worse. Being visited by the Chief or being attacked by the mountain lion. So was it really a mountain lion?" Duke sounded doubtful. "Did you see it?"

"No, but Charlie Thornhill did. Nathan, too."

Duke cast a glance across the waiting room where he saw the pale, balding man sitting in the corner, leaning forward anxiously in his chair holding an apple. "Haven't seen him in years. I didn't even recognize him. He's become…" he tried to decide on a diplomatic term, "…folliclely challenged." As he spoke, Duke rubbed his own full head of hair.

"I'm a little more interested in the fact that he's on edge."

"Didn't think he and Nathan were that good of friends back in high school."

"Yeah, from what I understand, they weren't. It could just be that what he witnessed was pretty horrific."

"But it's not like the mountain lion ripped Nathan's arm off or anything," Duke replied glibly. "You think there's more to it."

"Seems like it. When's the last time you heard of someone getting attacked by a mountain lion around these parts?"

"That would be the fourth of Never. I haven't even heard of anyone seeing mountain lions around these parts in years, let alone being attacked by one."

Audrey groaned. "I should've been there."

"You mean you weren't glued to Nathan's side? That's…that's shocking, Audrey."

"We're not together 24/7."

"I sure hope not," he replied suggestively.

"Not now, Duke."

"What would you have done if you had been there?"

"Thornhill said the cat dropped from a tree. Maybe another set of eyes…I don't know."

"So where were you?"

"Looking at the house," she sheepishly admitted.

"At the house?" Duke echoed.

"Brand House."

Duke nodded. "That place is impressive, but I didn't exactly take you for the big, stone mansion kind of girl. Though I guess that would rank slightly more likely than you manning a kissing booth."

"Not one of my better moments."

"Could've been."

It seemed so long ago that she had been suckered into watching the kissing booth at the Fall Fun Fest while Jennifer Sims, the woman providing the lip service, stepped out for a few minutes. In actuality, it had only been a few days ago that Duke had approached Audrey, and she'd been mildly tempted to truly man the booth for about two seconds.

"The house isn't my style. I don't need ostentatious displays of grandeur, but for some reason, the place fascinates me."

It defied logic, really. It was just a house, after all. A big, beautiful, interesting house with a disturbing history and bleeding trees on the estate. Oh, and mountain lions dropping out of trees. Yeah. Just a house.

"No one _needs_ ostentation. That's the point. We're hard-wired to appreciate beauty."

Duke's pointed words sank in, and Audrey shifted weight from one foot to the other. "So how long are you sticking around?"

"For as long as you want me here."

"You're a good friend. When you want to be," she added.

"I was worried about you."

"And about Nathan."

He shot her a look like she was crazy, but upon seeing her knowing look, his expression softened and he begrudgingly admitted, "Maybe a little. For purely selfish reasons, of course."

"Oh?"

"Something happens to Nathan, and there goes at least one-tenth of my entertainment."

"And so the bromance lives on. So how well do you know Charlie Thornhill?" Audrey asked.

"We didn't run in the same circles in school, if that's what you're asking."

"You think he'd talk to you?"

"If he's toughened up enough to talk to me, he'd probably tell me to f—" Duke stopped himself. "Maybe."

"Get him to talk. See if he'll tell you what happened. Then you and I can compare and see if it's the same story he told me."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're bossy?"

A small smile played on Audrey's lips. "It's been mentioned a time or two."

"You owe me, Audrey. And one day, I'm going to collect."

"I know."

* * *

As Duke made his way to Charlie, she moved back toward the entrance to Nathan's room. She glanced inside through the tall, rectangular window in the door. The chief was still in there, arms crossed. Audrey couldn't see Nathan, for the privacy curtain around the exam table obscured her view. Then again, she couldn't hear him, either. And if things had gone south between Nathan and his dad, she was sure she would've heard _something_.

She leaned against the wall again, mulling over the day's events: the Chief's refusal to divulge what he knew, the attack on Nathan, Charlie's strange behavior. Since when did strange become typical?

It was then that Audrey felt—though she neither saw nor heard—someone else's presence. She looked over and saw the mystery man from outside the _Herald_, his eyes gazing upon her. The recognition was definitely there as his eyes held hers, even as he moved closer to where she stood.

"You're staring," she uttered.

He smiled, his teeth white and even. "Certainly you can't fault a man for admiring beauty, though arguably there has been an abject lack of decorum in the execution of my admiration." His lightly accented voice was deep and sure.

He exuded confidence, and Audrey had the distinct impression that he was accustomed to getting what he wanted. In some small way, she could understand why. This man was…different. He wasn't the most handsome man she'd ever met, but he was certainly attractive in his own intangible way.

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered, suggest a visit to the local optometrist, or grab a thesaurus for myself."

"My apologies," he dipped his head slightly. "I should adjust my speech to include colloquialisms."

_No apology for being forward_, she noted. "I wouldn't go that far. The locals aren't renowned for their polysyllabic verbiage."

Green. His eyes were green—she couldn't quite tell the day before—and they shone with amusement. "No need to consult a thesaurus, Ms.—"

"Audrey Parker."

"Audrey Parker," he digested her name. "Noble strength."

"Come again?"

"Your name. _Audrey_. It means 'noble strength'. It suits you."

"Glad it meets your approval," she said wryly as she looked sideways at the man. "You are?"

"Ephraim Brand."

"Ah," she replied appraising him. "I thought you'd be older."

"You would be astounded by how frequently I hear that."

She shook her head almost in disbelief. "You're elusive, Mr. Brand."

"Not quite so elusive today. As I recall, you were the one who darted away."

"This time." Audrey glanced over and saw Duke speaking with Charlie Thornhill. Thornhill's eyes were focused on her and her companion. The way Charlie was staring, she figured it would be difficult for Duke to get much information from him as long as Ephraim Brand was present. "Mr. Brand, I was on my way down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?"

"I would be delighted to join you. Do you think they serve tea?"

"I'm pretty sure there's something that passes for tea if you squint your eyes just right and hold your nose."

"Then shall we?" He offered her his arm, an archaic gesture to be certain, but she took it nonetheless, placing her hand on it and allowing herself to be taken from the waiting room. If it would expedite their departure and give Duke the opportunity to glean more information, she was willing to play the role, albeit briefly, of a lady to his gentleman.

The two began the short walk to the cafeteria. "Thank you for your help today," she said looking up at him, "I'm guessing no amount of laundering is going to bring that sweater back to life."

"Things are replaceable. People are not. This man…he is important to you?"

"Yes. He's my partner. My friend."

"Nothing more?" The man shook his head slightly. "I must once again apologize. It seems that in your presence, I lose all hope of rational words."

"Do you know me?" Audrey asked abruptly.

"You asked the same question earlier," he noted.

"And you never answered."

"Then allow me to properly answer you now. No, Audrey Parker. This is the first time I have met you." He glanced over at her and chuckled. "You do not believe me."

"We saw each other yesterday from across the street. You recognized me."

"Yes. When you and your partner were on my estate yesterday investigating, I saw you from the window."

"And that's it?" Audrey had been so certain that he knew Lucy, but his response suggested otherwise. Another dead end.

He smiled. "You sound disappointed."

"Not disappointed. Perplexed."

"And what have I done that is so perplexing?" he challenged, his smile broadening.

But Audrey deflected. "I understand your family can trace its history back many generations in Haven."

"What is it my father used to tell me? You're not really from Haven if you can't go back to the beginning. My family certainly goes back to the beginning, but it's been many, many years since my last visit."

"Why now?"

"Why not now? My businesses are being managed by capable hands and do not require everyday oversight. I've traveled. Seen the world."

"And ended up in tiny Haven, Maine."

"And it is looking more and more enticing all the time."

The two arrived at the cafeteria. Ephraim attempted futilely to pay for Audrey's coffee, but she waved him off. Within moments, each had a hot beverage in hand and started heading back toward the waiting room.

"What of your family, Ms. Parker?" he asked her conversationally before taking a sip of his tea.

"I don't have family."

"No ties to anyone?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Ah, yes. Your partner. He's your partner in more ways than professional."

"You're digging for information," she stated flatly.

"I'm ascertaining the strength of the competition."

"And you think you're competing for me?" she asked incredulously. "We don't even know each other. You said so yourself."

"I want to know you, Audrey Parker." He stopped mid-hallway, looking at her intently. "And I look forward to the opportunity."

The intensity of his gaze made Audrey step back. She was accustomed to light flirting with Duke. It was harmless fun. But this—this felt like so much more. "So how's the tea?"

"Abominable, but it is well worth suffering through," he replied with a smile.

"So what do you make of the strange things happening at your estate?"

He replied matter-of-factly, "The Troubles are back."

"You know about the Troubles?" Surprise crept into her voice.

He blinked at her, affecting an air of confusion. "The Troubles have been around for many years, having they not?"

"And yet you don't seem at all disturbed by the fact that your trees were bleeding, a crack opened in the ground, or that a man was attacked by a mountain lion when there hasn't even been a sighting in years. All on _your _estate."

"There's a reason they're called the Troubles, though certainly I do bid your partner a speedy recovery. His experience is most unfortunate."

"Generally, the Troubles are not random. They're caused by people."

"Do I seem Troubled to you, Audrey? I'm exceedingly certain the only trouble I have is that I am standing across from a beautiful woman who is more interested in discussing matters of gloom and doom than in allowing me to extend an invitation to dinner."

The buzzing of Audrey's cell phone interrupted the conversation. She was more than mildly relieved, as she thought she should refuse his invitation and yet oddly found herself on the cusp of agreeing. "Excuse me. I need to take this."

"_Where are you?"_ Duke's voice demanded from the other line.

"I'm on my way back from the cafeteria," Audrey replied evenly.

"_You need to get here. Now."_

Fear seized her. "Is it Nathan?"

* * *

_To be continued..._


	14. Your Fellow

**********Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Additionally, I reserve the right to be long-winded and detailed as I borrow characters and return them (mostly) unscathed. Except for those nasty gashes on Nathan. Yep, those are going to leave a mark. Or three.

**Author's Note:** It was one year ago today that I began posting _Phoenix Rising_ and began my foray into the _Haven_ universe. What an amazing group of writers and readers make up this fandom! I am all the time just blown away by the creativity of other writers on this board and how they can transport me from my living room into the Gull or police station or that familiar blue Bronco. And of course, I couldn't ask for a more supportive and encouraging group of readers. Reviews are like gold nuggets to me. Seriously, you guys are the best!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: "Your Fellow"**

When Audrey reached the waiting area, the first thing she did was plant her fist hard against Duke's arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" Duke asked rubbing his bicep and musing that whoever coined the phrase 'hits like a girl' intending it as an insult had never been on the receiving end of a punch from Audrey Parker.

"For scaring me half to death!" In those few seconds before Duke had told her what had him so alarmed, her imagination had delved into some truly dark places. Her first thought was of Nathan, that his injuries were more severe than originally thought. The lump that had formed in her throat had only just begun to subside, and she was quite convinced it would not entirely erode until she saw him again with her own eyes.

"How about a little empathy for me? I mean, it's not every day that you run across the man who's going to kill you."

Audrey folded her arms across her chest. "Are you sure you saw the tattoo, Duke?"

"I know the tattoo," he affirmed. "Oh, it was there all right."

Audrey looked over Duke's shoulder toward Nathan's room, trying to peer through the rectangular window. She could see the chief was still there with his son. "I told you. He's fine," Duke reiterated as he realized he didn't have her full attention. "Look, you're the one who put me up to talking to Charlie Thornhill. If I die because of that stupid conversation, I am going to haunt you."

"Alright. So fill me in."

"Charlie Thornhill wasn't very conversational at first. He doesn't like me very much."

"Which we already knew," Audrey replied, trying to expedite Duke's story.

"I asked him what he's been up to since high school. Pretty dull stuff. He kept giving me one and two word answers and looking at the man you were talking to."

"Ephraim Brand," Audrey supplied. "Yeah, I noticed that, too."

"So _that's_ Ephraim Brand. I was supposed to meet with him yesterday. He's younger than I imagined he would be."

"He gets that a lot."

"You two sound friendly."

"Oh, he is very friendly," Audrey replied, remembering his less-than-subtle flirtation.

"Then where is he?"

"Making a phone call to his manservant."

"Manservant?" Duke repeated incredulously.

"Did Charlie seem scared to you?" Audrey asked, trying to get Duke back on track, which she was convinced was about as easy as herding cats.

Duke shook his head to focus himself, seeming to realize he hadn't finished his story. "More nervous than scared. Even when you distracted Ephraim Brand for a few minutes, Charlie kept eyeballing this _apple_, of all things."

_The apple again._ Another layer of weird, as far as Audrey was concerned.

"Did he say anything about the mountain lion attack?"

"Just that the animal seemed to come out of nowhere but that it must've dropped from a tree. Oh, and that it disappeared without a trace."

"Similar to what he told me. Anything else?"

"Yeah. He asked me how long the Troubles have been back. He was fidgety and sweating. He took off his jacket. That was when I saw the tat."

"But he said nothing threatening to you?"

"Not overtly, but you know what Vanessa said." Duke's voice softened at the mention of Vanessa Stanley, which Audrey noticed immediately. She had once teased him about being "hot for babysitter," but Duke's interest ran deeper than a physical attraction, and her death had been a blow to him.

"Did you ask him about it?"

"What was I supposed to say? Hey, are you the guy who's going to kill me?"

"You are hopeless. You know that, right?" Audrey couldn't help but shake her head and smile. "All you had to do was admire the artistry of it or something. Schmooze a little. I thought you of all people could pull that off."

"Audrey Parker giving me tips on small talk? What's the world coming to?" Duke wasn't in the mood to be teased. "If you were talking to the man who was going to kill you, you'd be a little tongue tied, too."

"Do you really think Charlie Thornhill…?" With the expression on Duke's face, she added, "No, just hear me out. We've seen the tattoo on more than one person. Who's to say that Charlie Thornhill is the one?"

"Are you trying to make me feel better? 'Cause it isn't working."

"So you're bothered by the thought that Charlie Thornhill might be the man who kills you, and you're bothered by the thought that Charlie Thornill might _not _be the man who kills you. Makes perfect sense."

"I see how it is. 'Duke, do me a favor. Come through for me.' And when I come to you with a problem, you laugh it off. And you hit me. Not in that order and not cool, Audrey."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Hey, I get it. I do. I will find out what I can. In the meantime, you stay away from him."

"You're telling _me_ that?"

"I mean it, Duke. I haven't forgotten that you once said you were going to kill the tattooed man before he killed you. You can't go after Charlie Thornhill in cold blood. Besides, who's to say that in doing so, you wouldn't be causing your own death?"

Duke clenched his fists and groaned in frustration. "Self-fulfilling prophesy bullshit notwithstanding, I'm not going to sit on this for long, Audrey."

"You won't have to. Trust me, okay?"

"You able to break yourself away from Nate long enough to deal with this?"

"We're not joined at the hip."

"Could've fooled me."

"I'm not in there with him right now, am I?" she reminded him.

"And it's killing you."

Audrey opened her mouth to dispute his claim, but decided against it. Ignoring the comment would discourage Duke more than any vocalized protestation. "Look, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're my friend."

"I'm not just—"

"Duke, seriously, you need to let this go. Let me dig around."

The door to Nathan's hospital room opened, and the Chief emerged from it. Audrey started toward the older man, leaving Duke stewing.

Garland nodded toward Nathan's room. "He's going home in a few minutes. You think you can get 'im settled?"

"Absolutely," she replied.

"Nathan said he has some spare clothes in the truck. Might want to get them for him."

"You heading out?"

"Here in a minute. Find anything else out from Charlie Thornhill?"

"Same thing he's been saying. Duke's even talked with him."

Garland's dour expression turned even grimmer. "Something's not right here. You need to be careful, Parker."

"Okay. And you're saying this because I might otherwise throw myself at danger?"

"Something like that." Garland looked over her shoulder and saw a tall, well-dressed man leaning against the opposite wall, his eyes fixed on the two of them.

Audrey turned to see what garnered the Chief's attention. "Do you know him?"

The Chief shook his head. "No. Do you?"

"I met him today."

"And?"

She shrugged. "And what? He's charming, well-spoken, and in general seems too good to be true."

"You remember that last part. People are rarely what they seem."

"Tell me about it," she replied pointedly. Despite their temporary truce, Audrey couldn't dismiss the fact that the chief knew far more about her past than he was willing to share.

"I need a cigarette," Garland grumbled.

"I thought you were trying to quit."

"Old habits. The best thing you can do today is let go of the past. Get Nathan home, give him drugs to keep him knocked out so he doesn't open up his wounds again, and make sure he doesn't do something stupid."

* * *

A quick trip to the Bronco and five minutes later, Audrey returned to the waiting room to find Duke, the chief, and Ephraim Brand gone. In a way, she was relieved. Fewer complications.

She knocked on Nathan's hospital room door.

"Come in," she heard him call from within.

"So what kind of guy carries his own personal sling around in his truck?" Audrey asked holding up a sling in one hand and carrying folded clothes in the other as she entered.

"Comes in handy," Nathan replied from where he sat on the bed. "I get to go home."

"About time." She eyeballed the light blue printed hospital gown he wore, a change from the last time she saw him when he was in his regular, albeit bloody, clothes. It was hard to keep a straight face, particularly when she noticed that the design on the gown featured small yellow ducks. "I don't think I can take you seriously in that."

He looked down at the gown. "The duck print is growing on me."

"Did you hit your head when the mountain lion attacked you? Really, Nathan. It has to go." She set the clean jeans and flannel shirt she'd retrieved from the Bronco on the edge of the bed and patted them for effect.

"Lucky for me, I'm always prepared." He swung his long legs off the bed and stood, picking up the jeans with his uninjured arm.

Audrey turned her back to give him some privacy. "My own personal Boy Scout."

A hint of amusement came through in his next words. "I was never a Boy Scout."

"Too bad. And here I was picturing you in your Boy Scout uniform with merit badges, selling cookies…"

"That's the Girl Scouts," Nathan corrected her. "My dad wanted me to be a Boy Scout. Thought it would help to teach me character, make me fit in."

"And what did you want?"

"Whatever was the opposite of what he wanted."

Audrey had to bite back laughter at Nathan's harsh assessment. "So I was glad to see you two didn't kill, maim, or otherwise injure each other."

"If we were going to, the hospital'd be the place," Nathan replied offhandedly. From the sound of his voice, she could tell his was struggling with his clothing, unaccustomed to dressing himself using only one hand. "Dammit."

"Need some help?" Audrey asked.

"I'll get it eventually."

She shook her head and turned to face him. Nathan still had on the ridiculous duck-print hospital gown, only now it was bunched up around his waist. His jeans hung loosely on his hips, unfastened, revealing the answer to the age-old question: boxers or briefs. "Yeah, I'd like to leave this week." Closing the distance between them, she lightly swatted his hand away from the button of his jeans and took both sides of the heavy material between her fingers, her knuckles lightly grazing his abdomen. Nathan flinched at her touch. "Sorry," she muttered, fastening the metal button.

"Don't be sorry. I, uh, can manage the zipper."

"Right," she replied taking a step back, suddenly finding the floor very fascinating as she heard the sound of his zipper. She finally looked back up at him, stunned to see how positively miserable he looked. It couldn't have been pain from the wounds. So what was it? She opened her mouth to ask, but instead found herself saying, "The gown ties are in the back. And I think you're going to need help with the shirt."

Nathan's frown deepened.

"There's no shame in needing a friend."

He nodded, a quick, brief movement, before turning around so she could untie the hospital gown. As she gently tugged at the ties of the cotton material, she found herself studying him. His back was well-muscled and dotted with scars and the occasional freckle. Her hand lingered on the last knot before pulling it open. "You're good to go."

Audrey reached for the flannel shirt as Nathan pulled the untied hospital gown off himself.

When Audrey had seen him bare-chested earlier, he had been covered in blood. Not exactly enticing. In her vision, she'd seen him shirtless and then some, but there was no sense discovery, only the anticipation of their bodies joining.

But this—this felt different. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time, and she couldn't help the audible breath that she drew.

It was official: Nathan Wuornos was hot, and she was in lust.

Her eyes drank him in. Long, lean muscles. Broad shoulders. Defined pecs. Washboard abs. She knew he had a good body, if from nothing else than from the way he looked in a t-shirt. But now she was convinced it was a shame he wore clothes so frequently.

_Pull it together, Audrey. Pull it together. It's not like you haven't seen good-looking men before. This is Nathan. Your friend. Emphasis on friend. _

_This is your partner. _

_This is your partner. _

_This is your partner._

If he noticed her reaction, he didn't say anything. She held the shirt, sliding the sleeve up his injured arm. "Hold still," she mildly scolded him when he tried to assist her. "You know what the doctor said about straining yourself too much and pulling those butterfly closures apart." Careful not to touch the area near his wound and cause him discomfort, she brought the shirt up on his left shoulder and around to his other shoulder so he could put his uninjured arm through the opening of the garment.

Without waiting for his one-handed fumbling attempts at buttoning his shirt, Audrey began to secure the soft flannel. And truly, it was the only choice she had because it was highly likely she was going to do something to make a complete fool of herself if she didn't get him covered up.

One button.

Then two.

She heard his slight gasp, feared she had inadvertently hurt him. Yet when she looked at his face, she saw that was not the case. His eyes fluttered, and it occurred to her that her fingers were splayed across his abdomen and he was reacting to the sudden and unexpected stimuli. A strange feeling swathed her. _Her touch did this to him._ It was heady and heartbreaking and bewildering all at once.

Nathan didn't look at her, staring ahead at some fixed point on the wall. "It's strange. Being able to feel you, I mean."

She had told him it didn't freak her out that she was the only one he could feel, but she would be lying if she had said it didn't matter one way or the other. She was glad he could feel her, wished that there were other things he could feel, too, and found her mind swarming with questions. What were their boundaries? They were friends, yes. But some friends hugged or slapped each other on the back. Some friends never touched at all. What did Nathan want? If she was to believe Julia, he wanted far more than he ever let on. Yet he had been so respectful of her, never pushing his need for contact on her, rarely initiating touches and never inappropriately.

"The Troubles will be over again," she replied returning her attention to the shirt, working her way up the line of buttons. "Then you'll be able to feel everyone, everything."

"Right." He paused. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. I just…." His words trailed off.

Uncomfortable was not the word, as far as she was concerned. Hot and bothered, maybe.

"Please," she scoffed. "You think _that's_ going to make _me_ uncomfortable? Pfft."

She could still see a glimpse of the bandage sticking out of the open collar of the shirt. Three parallel gashes were concealed by the dressing. _The three scars from her vision_. It all seemed to be falling into place, which was weirdly comforting and fantastically disconcerting. Would Nathan truly become her lover? In some ways, it made sense.

He was a man. He had needs.

She was a woman. She had needs.

It had been a long time since she'd taken a lover. And lately, the tension that coiled within her was becoming nearly palpable. If just the sight of him with his shirt off could drive her mind into the gutter…

No. There were too many complications. Too many things that could go wrong. Too much depended on them keeping their act together.

"You should put this on," Audrey continued, reaching for the sling. "Keep that arm immobile."

A knock on the door, followed by its subsequent opening, found the two partners in the company of the matronly nurse that Audrey had seen in the room earlier, the one who had cut off his bloodied shirt. "I have your discharge papers, Nathan."

The nurse went through a series of instructions about his care that he should follow over the next few days, along with a prescription from Dr. Pennycuff to ward off any infections that might set in. Audrey listened intently, storing up the information for the inevitable moment when Nathan would try pushing himself too hard.

After Nathan signed the papers, the nurse handed Audrey a plastic bag. "His dirty clothes," she said. "Take good care of your fellow."

"I will," Audrey nodded.

"Your fellow?" Nathan echoed once the nurse left the room.

"It was easier to agree with her than correct her," Audrey defended.

But the look on satisfaction on Nathan's face said it all. Audrey wasn't one to take the easy way out on anything. "Where are my keys?" he asked.

She tapped her pocket. "If you really think you're driving, you're crazy."

"I've seen you drive."

She shot him an exasperated look.

"Drive a car halfway off a cliff, never live it down," he explained.

"You got attacked by a mountain lion today, the first attack in Maine—forget Haven—in _Maine_, for years. You think I'm trusting _your _luck? Besides, no straining."

"Driving isn't strenuous."

"Stop arguing with me. I'm going to take you home, get you settled in, run a few errands, and then I'll be back to fix dinner. Oh, and the dinner's going to be good."

"Sounds positively domestic."

She batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion. "Anything for my 'fellow,' right?"

She was teasing. Mostly. But when she saw an all-too-rare smile spread across his features and felt the butterflies in her stomach, she knew she was in trouble.

* * *

"Do you have a light?" The deep, accented voice broke through Garland Wuornos's haze of smoke and anxiety.

Garland Wuornos took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled, blowing the smoke in the newcomer's direction. "I'm all out."

"'To serve and protect,'" the taller man read the emblem on the side of the chief's squad car. "Interesting. I trust the protect part is observed more faithfully than the serve portion of your motto."

"I'm not here to serve you. None of us are."

The new-arrival blinked with an affectation of surprise. "Strange. All I wanted was a light for my pipe." He withdrew it from the inner pocket of the expensively cut jacket he wore. "Pipes are so quaint, don't you think?"

Garland grew tired of the charade. "She's not the one you're looking for," he replied, rolling the cigarette between his fingers, no longer finding any enjoyment in the vice.

"I beg your pardon?"

Garland shook his head, but his gaze never left the other man's face. "All these years, and you're still playing games. I know why you're here, Brand."

"Yes, to check on the well-being of a man who was injured on my property today. Other than that, you must have me confused with someone else."

Garland pointed his finger at Brand. "You need to leave and take your poison with you."

Ephraim chuckled heartily. "Where is that small-town, friendly atmosphere? I have no intention of leaving, particularly when the sights have become so much more alluring as of late."

"She's not the one you're looking for," the chief repeated.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Officer…." He leaned forward to look at the nametag on Garland's uniform. "…Wuornos."

"_Chief_ Wuornos."

"My father mentioned you, Garland. The two of you shared a tragedy."

"You bringing it back with you?"

Ephraim smiled broadly, though his eyes remained cold. "It appears to me that it never left."

* * *

_To be continued…_


	15. Pieces of a Puzzle

**Disclaimer: ** Yeah, I think you guys know that I don't own _Haven_, nor do I make any money of this story, etc. etc.**  
**

**Author's Note: **So...it has been a very long time since I've posted. Real life has been extraordinarily hectic, but I promise I haven't given up on this story. Will it help that this is at least a semi-long chapter?

For all of you still reading, thank you for hanging in there with me. And thank you so much for all of you who have offered words of encouragement. They really do mean the world to me. Plus, your reviews let me know what is and isn't working in the story.

Speaking of which, now on with our story.** :)**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: "Pieces of a Puzzle"**

Audrey let herself into Nathan's house, an armful of groceries in one hand and files and a book in the other. Unlocking the door with the key Nathan had loaned her had been a balancing act until she'd finally given up and set the groceries down on one of the rocking chairs on his front porch.

From the entryway, she headed directly to the kitchen to deposit the groceries on the countertop before going to check on him. Walking back into the living room, she could see his long body was stretched out on the couch. Sometime while she'd been gone, he'd changed pants, she noticed. Sweatpants. With only one usable arm, it made sense, considering how Nathan had reacted when she'd helped him with his jeans earlier. Of course, the pants looked comical with the plaid flannel shirt he wore. Not that Nathan had ever been much of a fashion maven. Neither had she, for that matter.

Kneeling on the floor next to the couch, Audrey started to awaken him but hesitated, instead studying him. She could see his eyes moving under his eyelids, undoubtedly dreaming. His soft breathing was sure, even.

After everything he'd been through that day, the only thing he'd groused about was his cotton t-shirt. There were some benefits to not feeling anything, she supposed. Still, it had surprised her that for as independent as he was, Nathan hadn't protested much when she'd insisted on coming home with him. Maybe he was just too spent to argue. Or maybe he really didn't mind. That last possibility opened a myriad of questions, questions whose answers she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know.

She resolved to let him sleep longer while she began preparations for supper, but kneeling next to him, examining him, she had difficulty tearing herself away. Everything about him fascinated her. She knew he was tall, but seeing him stretched out, she was struck by just how long and muscled those limbs of his were. She could also see a strip of skin where the shirt had ridden up, exposing his flat abdomen and a trail of dark hair below his navel that disappeared underneath his sweatpants. Audrey forced her eyes away from the sweatpants, away from the source of her curiosity, instead studying his face: the curve of his lips, the cleft of his chin, the arch of his brows, his perfectly straight nose, even the fringe of his eyelashes. He was….

_Snap out of it! _

She stood abruptly and turned to walk away, clipping the edge of the coffee table. A light curse escaped her lips to accompany the pain in her knee.

"Parker?" Nathan murmured, still half-asleep.

She froze in place and hoped it wasn't too obvious to him what she had been doing before unceremoniously conking her leg. "Hey. I'm going to fix dinner."

"Thought maybe you were having a fight with the coffee table."

"Says the guy who got attacked by a mountain lion today. Go back to sleep for now." She leaned down and ran her palm across his forehead, feather light. Heat was coming off of him in waves. She drew her hand back and looked at him again. Why hadn't she noticed his skin was flushed? "Nathan, you're really hot."

"You're not bad yourself," came the droll reply.

"That's not what I meant," Audrey replied as she once again pressed her hand against his forehead. "I think you're running a fever." Was she imagining it, or was he leaning into her touch?

His half-opened eyes surveyed her with lazy interest. "The doc said that was a possible side effect of the rabies vaccination."

Audrey nodded, mentally adding his fever to her list of things to monitor over the next few hours. "Where do you keep your thermometer?"

"Which one?"

She was trying to decide whether he was being serious when the ringing of the phone in her pocket interrupted them. She frowned.

"You gonna answer that?"

Audrey bit back a groan as she pulled the phone from her back pocket. "Parker here."

"_Audrey, it's Julia. I thought maybe you were going to stop by today."_

Nathan watched her silently react, her face scrunching in annoyance. "I'm sorry, Julia. I completely forgot."

"_You? Forget? Must be something big. You tied up with Nathan?"_

Audrey glanced at Nathan, who upon realizing he'd been caught staring, quickly averted his gaze. She turned away from him, if for nothing else than to hide the smile crossing her face. "Something like that."

"_Work or play?" _

Julia's suggestive tone came through loud and clear to Audrey, who steadily ignored it. "Neither." She looked back at Nathan. "You have a few minutes?"

"_Sure. For what?"_

"To put those medical skills to use on the living?"

"_Are you sick? Any more episodes of blacking out?"_

"No. Nathan's running a fever, though."

Nathan, upon hearing Audrey's side of the conversation piped up loud enough to be heard through the phone in Audrey's hand, "I'm not sick, Julia."

"_Typical male response. Does he have any other symptoms? Congestion? Headache?"_

"No, nothing like that. But he _was _attacked by a mountain lion today."

"_Are you serious?" _came Julia's reply_. "So…exactly how did _that_ happen?"_

"Wrong place, wrong time."

"_Sounds more Troubling than that. You know, Darfour had its dangers, but I'm starting to think compared to Haven…"_ Julia's voice trailed off before she came back with, _"So are you at his house?"_

"Yeah."

"_I'll be there in a few minutes. Oh, and I'll bring that journal for you, too."_

"Thanks, Julia."

Audrey pressed the off button on her phone and turned to face a glowering Nathan.

"Parker, I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she replied sitting on the coffee table facing him. "What if there's something more going on than a reaction to the rabies vaccination?"

"You think this is a Trouble?"

"You can't dismiss the possibility."

"Then what exactly do you think Julia would be able to do about it?"

Audrey sighed. He had her there. "Look, we haven't really had the chance to talk about it, and I didn't want to spring this on you considering what you've been through, but there was more going on today than meets the eye. Charlie Thornhill was acting weird."

"Weird," he echoed settling back on the couch. "We've got to come up with a new word for you." Audrey shot him an exasperated look, resulting in Nathan responding, "Okay, I'll bite." She groaned at his pun. "How so?"

"He was fidgety. Duke said he spotted the tattoo on Charlie's forearm."

"Duke was there?" Nathan scoffed. "Probably showed up to see if he could pull the plug or something."

"You don't give him enough credit. He was genuinely worried about you, same way you'd be about him if the situation were reversed."

"If the situation were reversed, I'd think he smuggled exotic animals into Maine and got what he deserved." Nathan paused, the realization of what Audrey was saying sinking in. "Duke saw _the_ tattoo?"

Audrey nodded. "And now he's convinced that Thornhill is the one who is going to kill him."

"Hope he doesn't do anything stupid. I've known Charlie Thornhill a lot of years. Can't imagine him harming anyone."

"He does come across as more of a quiet-librarian-type than ruthless assassin, I agree with you there. Still, there's something else going on. Thornill kept staring at this apple in the waiting room."

"An apple. Sounds familiar."

"Yeah. Just like Vince. And the other man at the estate?"

Nathan furrowed his brows. In the confusion surrounding the aftermath of the attack, he'd forgotten that there had been anyone else around, but now that he thought back, he did remember another man being present. "Yeah?"

"_That_ was Ephraim Brand. I assume he's the son of the man you ran across when you were a kid."

"Right. All the first-born sons are named Ephraim."

"He's also the man I spotted leaving the _Herald _office right before I saw Vince having a really weir—_strange_ reaction to an apple. If the Brand family are as well-known around Haven as they seem to be, Vince was lying to me about not knowing who he was."

"We already figured that."

"True. He wasn't exactly subtle, was he?" Audrey shook her head slightly. "It just feels like I get an answer to one question, and three more pop up. At the hospital, from what I could tell, Brand was setting Thornhill on edge without even a word, same way he made Vince nervous."

"You think he had something to do with the mountain lion?"

"I don't know. I asked him about that and about the bleeding trees. He certainly didn't say anything to incriminate himself. In fact, he had a way of saying all the right things."

The hint of admiration in her voice piqued Nathan. "Like what?"

Audrey shrugged. "He was just very…charming. And before you accuse me of letting attraction cloud my judgment, I'm not."

Nathan frowned. "Attracted or clouded?"

But Audrey didn't answer him, instead deflecting with, "The Chief certainly doesn't trust him."

"He told you that?"

She thought back to the Chief's reaction upon hearing her describe her conversation with the enigmatic Mr. Brand. Garland Wuornos was curmudgeonly on a good day, but the Chief practically snarled at her when speaking of Brand. "At the hospital. He warned me that Brand's not what he seems."

"How would he know?" Nathan asked pointedly.

"Good question."

"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and a mountain lion attack is just a mountain lion attack. Can't say I'm a big fan of the Brands in general, though. And the Chief, well, he usually has a reason for his opinions."

Audrey remembered Dr. Pennycuff's expression when he learned that Nathan had been at the Brand Estate when the attack took place. "That seems to be the prevailing reaction from people."

"But not you," Nathan pointed out.

"I like to make up my own mind about people, but I'm not naïve." Audrey fell silent, hoping Nathan was right about the attack being a fluke because any Trouble that could conjure wild animals or make trees bleed didn't exactly sound like an easy one to resolve, and it had the potential to hurt a lot more people. "You had me scared out there."

"I know. What I don't understand is why."

"Seriously?"

"I've been through worse. You've seen some of it."

Audrey averted her gaze. The fear that had gripped her when she saw him covered with blood and then Duke's frantic call…it was silly to still be affected by it. Nathan was fine, and the residual nervousness…maybe she could chalk it up to her adrenaline running amok. "This just felt different."

Nathan looked down at his bandaged shoulder. "And I can't feel any of it. Or the fever."

She caught the glint of a challenge in his tone. "I'm definitely right about the fever."

"And now you've sicced Julia on me."

Audrey tried to maintain a nonchalant tone. "I'd hate to have to break in a new partner. Besides, turnabout is fair play." Had it only been a few days ago that she'd had her encounter with Lady Cassandra? It felt like a small eternity. How quickly things could change. She felt anything but nonchalance where Nathan was concerned.

"So this is revenge."

"No, this is me being cautious."

"Since when are you cautious?" Nathan disputed.

"I'm more cautious than you'll ever know." His eyes held hers, and she wondered if he had any idea of the restraint she'd been mustering for the past couple of days. The vision of Nathan and her as lovers had been startling and beautiful, intense and mystifying.

And it had thrown her for a loop.

This wasn't her. This uncertainty. In the past, when she had been attracted to a man, she had been very matter-of-fact about it. She could take him or leave him. Audrey couldn't even remember the last man who had distracted her, who invaded her thoughts.

This thing with Nathan—what was she supposed to call it anyway?-went beyond the mere physical, and it was impossible. Just impossible. She stood, desperate to place some distance between them to regain her bearings. "I should go work on supper."

Nathan started to get up, but Audrey firmly pressed her hand on his uninjured shoulder. "No, you should rest. Besides, Julia is going to be here soon to check on you."

"Great."

His unenthusiastic tone drew a smirk from Audrey before she retreated to the kitchen to regain her equilibrium.

* * *

"Pulse is strong," Julia commented as she pressed her fingers against Nathan's wrist. She pulled a thermometer from her bag and ran it across his forehead getting a near-instantaneous reading. "100.1. Not horrible but not good either." She surveyed her patient. "What medication does Dr. Pennycuff have you on?"

"It's over there."

Julia looked at the bottle, an antibiotic in the penicillin family. No pain medication. Made sense. Why prescribe narcotics to a man who can't feel pain anyway?

"I guess it's futile if I ask if you have any Tylenol in the house?"

"Not had much use for it." He'd thrown it all out when his Trouble returned.

"You do now. It'll act as a fever reducer and shouldn't interact with your antibiotic. And before you argue, even when you can't feel the effects of the fever, your body does. You aren't going to be as strong or as able."

"I'm fine, Julia."

"Poor put upon Nathan," she teased. "You're as bad a patient as Audrey." She looked in her bag. "I think I have some Acetaminophen in here. I'm going to leave it with you, and you're going to take it tonight. That's not open for debate. If you're still running a fever tomorrow, I want you to get back to Dr.Pennycuff."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. I'd like to have a look at your wound, but…" she unbuttoned two of the buttons on his shirt to get a better view of his bandage. "…your dressing looks to be fairly clean yet. Doesn't make sense to disturb it just to satisfy my curiosity, particularly when there are no symptoms of lymphangitis." At Nathan's questioning look, she explained, "Er, red streaks extending outward from the wound. That would be a sign of infection."

"Good to know."

"I'm sure Dr. Pennycuff already mentioned this, but you should avoid strenuous activities."

"He did."

"So no heavy lifting until the skin seals itself. And if I were you, I'd be cautious of sexual activity, as well. At least for a few more days."

She spoke so matter-of-factly, Nathan wasn't sure whether she was joking until she looked at him for a response. "Not an issue," he finally managed.

"First thing in the morning, you should have Audrey change the dressing on your wound."

"Audrey's my partner, not my girlfriend. I can take care of it myself."

"Well, whatever you call her, she's in the kitchen making supper for you and has been playing nursemaid. And I'm pretty sure you did the same for her just a few days ago. Sounds like more than a working partnership to me."

"We're friends. That's what friends do."

Julia groaned. "You two are just i_mpossible_."

"We work together."

"Please. You wouldn't be the first co-workers to fall in love. That's all I'm saying before I pry too much."

"Too late."

"Okay, okay," Julia raised her hands in surrender. "Just…she's not going to turn you down. Those are my last words on the matter." Julia returned her thermometer to a small carrying case and placed it in her bag. "So…the Troubles…it's been a lot of years."

"Not long enough."

"I was really young last time around, but I remember Mom taking me with her to her office instead of dropping me off at school. I didn't really understand it at the time, and I was peeved. I wanted to go to school so I could play in the puppet house in Mrs. Hall's kindergarten class. Seems silly now."

"The Troubles look different when you're older."

"Everything does."

Hearing the wistfulness in her voice, he asked, "You sticking around?"

Julia shrugged. "I always told myself I never wanted to see them again. And yet here I am. My family's gone. Nothing to keep me here, but I can't quite seem to leave."

"You looking for answers?"

"I don't know about that. Maybe it's like an accident. So difficult to watch. So difficult to look away from. What about you? Why are you still in Haven?"

"Left for awhile. Had no intention of coming back."

"Weren't you accepted to law school or something?" Julia chuckled. "Or am I imagining that?"

"Brings back memories. I haven't thought of law school in years."

"But you didn't go."

"Opening came up at the Haven PD. I applied. Was hired."

"You make is sound so simple. But with your dad there…do you like it?"

"Some days are better than others."

"I imagine with the Troubles, the bad can outweigh the good."

"Most of the people I've encountered, they've been good people with no control over what's happening to them. Audrey—she has a way of helping them that goes beyond what's written in the law books."

"Audrey seems pretty determined to figure out what's going on, why she looks like someone else. I guess the why and the what is the same reason you can feel her when you can't feel anyone else."

"She told you that?" Nathan couldn't hide the surprise in his voice.

"Is it a secret?" Julia asked with a half laugh.

"It's…not exactly."

"Look, if you don't want me to say anything else about it, I won't. I just can't help but wonder what it all means."

Nathan swallowed hard. He'd been pondering the same question for months, ever since he felt Audrey's lips against his cheek. That brief moment—it must've been a throwaway moment for her—but to him, turned his world askew. _What does this mean?_

He'd thrown around dozen of theories, some of which were out there. As a trained detective, he was almost embarrassed for having given thought to some of the outlandishness. Almost.

Ultimately, all he'd come up with was Audrey's importance went far beyond being a cure for his Trouble, beyond an old photo taken on the scene of the Colorado Kid's murder. She seemed unaffected by the Troubles. Hell, maybe somewhere within her past, they'd find their answers.

But not if they became mired in each other.

"Doesn't mean anything." _But she means everything_. "I'm not unique." _But she's special._

"You're special to her."

"I'm her friend."

Julia looked like she was going to protest further but seemed to remember her promise, finally settling on, "Whatever she's cooking smells really good."

"You staying for dinner?" Nathan asked, grateful for the turn in the conversation.

"No, I've tormented you enough for one night, don't you think? Besides two's company. Three's a crowd. I am, however, going to stop in and see her before I take off."

* * *

"Look at this. When did he have time to do this?"

When she entered the kitchen, Julia saw Audrey standing in front of Nathan's refrigerator, door open. Dutifully, she moved beside her friend. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Coffee creamer. Caramel macchiato. White chocolate almond. Hazelnut. Vanilla. Amaretto. Mocha. Half and half."

"You know what they say about cops and their coffee," Julia replied, enjoying a little dig at her friend's expense.

"Nathan takes his coffee black."

"Then I guess it's not really for him, then is it?" Julia asked rhetorically. "When you two do finally get this whole thing figured out, I want details. Lots of details."

Audrey didn't bother to correct Julia or offer any additional objections. One of the things she had quickly learned about her friend was Julia was pig-headed, a trait Audrey admired—most of the time. "So what's his prognosis, Doc?"

"He does have a fever, but I don't see any signs of his wounds being infected. I gave him some Acetaminophen. It should reduce his fever. If he's running a fever in the morning, he'll need to be seen again, but I don't anticipate any problems."

"That's good."

"He'll need to have his bandage changed in the morning. You think you're up for that?"

Audrey nodded. "I think I can manage."

"I know this probably doesn't need to be said, but try to discourage him from exerting himself too much."

"Easier said than done."

"I have faith in you. Besides, I suspect you're the only one who has the influence needed to make Nathan slow down. Any man who would buy that much coffee creamer for his partner…"

"Julia…"

"Well, if you didn't want commentary, you shouldn't have shown me," Julia shot back.

True enough. What was Audrey hoping to gain from showing that to Julia? Confirmation of her own thoughts?

The brunette offered a smile as she tilted her head in the direction of a canvas bag. "And I hope you find something in those journals, something you can use."

"I really do appreciate this."

"Mom liked you. She would've wanted you to have them," Julia replied. "I should go. Let you finish up. Smells really good, by the way."

"Do you want to stay? There's plenty."

"No. I have plans to do absolutely nothing tonight, and after the day I've had, that looks really good to me."

"Something bad happen?"

Julia shook her head. "Just Haven. See you soon?"

"Definitely," Audrey replied.

"I'll let myself out."

* * *

An hour and a half later with supper over and the dishes done, Audrey trekked into the living room, journals in hand, where Nathan was lying on the couch watching the History Channel. It seemed like such a normal thing to do; strange how they had never watched anything other than surveillance videos together. She began to settle on the floor, but Nathan quickly moved his legs so she could sit on the couch instead.

"You look comfortable. This is fine."

"Parker, I can't feel comfortable or uncomfortable, but I will feel guilty if you're sitting on the floor."

Audrey nodded and took a seat on the far end of the sofa. _Much better_, she decided as she sank into the cushion. "Want to stretch back out?"

Nathan was about to reiterate that he couldn't feel comfort or discomfort, but then reconsidered. She was offering to anchor him, to help him feel something, even if it was just her warmth or a stray touch. He stretched his legs across her lap, the act striking him as a mixture of platonic and intimate. She said nothing and instead rested her arms atop his shins. The warmth that flowed from her was the first warmth he'd felt since the last time she had touched him.

Time passed. How long, he wasn't certain as he fell into a light doze.

"This has to be a put on. No one is that stupid."

Audrey's comment brought Nathan fully back to his surroundings. He glanced at the screen of the television. He didn't know exactly what had drawn her ire, but he'd seen enough episodes of the show to guess. "At least Chumlee's entertaining."

"Yeah. That's a nice way to put it."

"So what are you working on?" Nathan asked seeing the notebook Audrey had out and open.

"When Julia came over, she brought some of Eleanor's papers. Next best thing to getting answers from Eleanor herself, I suppose."

Nathan tried to sit up, but Audrey pressed down on his legs. "Rest. Besides, you're totally going to mess up my makeshift desk here."

Nathan half snorted. Audrey's makeshift desk consisted of his shins. He definitely didn't mind. "Find anything?"

"Nothing unusual yet, unless you call a late September snow storm unusual."

"I think I remember that. Vaguely. It warmed up enough for us to go to the fun fest, but it was strange to see snow on top of fall foliage."

"I'm in for it, aren't I? With winter, I mean?"

"You've lived in Boston. You know snow."

"Maine snow?" she asked, doubt tingeing her voice.

"We're on the coast. It's worse inland, but yeah, it gets cold. And it snows. That's generally what happens in winter."

Audrey rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the notebook.

_September 28, 1983_

_I performed another autopsy today. Not one of my favorite things to do, but I have the feeling that these will be coming more often. I hope I'm wrong._

_Walt Yeater. Age 42. Nice man. His son is a couple of years ahead of J. in school. I feel for the boy, even moreso because I know the circumstances of his death. His epidermis appeared pinker than the typical patient I see in the morgue. No history of epileptic seizures but Dr. Pennycuff listed this as the probable cause of death. Upon closer inspection, I believe W.Y. died from acute cyanide poisoning._

Audrey's brows furrowed as she continued reading technical details of Eleanor's findings in the autopsy.

…_with a combination of amyl nitrate, sodium nitrate, and sodium thiosulfate could have treated the poisoning. But in my colleague's defense, no one told him that W.Y. ingested what appears to be at least a cup of apple seeds. Though what would make a man eat that many apples seed and all…_

"Okay. I don't like this."

"What is it?"

"Apples again. Or more specifically, apple seeds. What do you know about apple seeds?"

"They're poisonous, along with cherry pits. Contain cyanide and small traces of arsenic. And Johnny planted them."

"Well, Eleanor wrote about a man who died from cyanide poisoning. Ate too many apples."

"Guess an apple a day doesn't-"

"Oh, God, don't say it."

Nathan sat up and moved closer to Audrey to get a better look at the journal. "Think it's a coincidence?"

"We have nothing concrete to connect a death that happened twenty-seven years ago with Vince Teagues and Charlie Thornhill's strange fear of apples."

"Nothing but the Troubles. Who was the vic?"

"Walt Yeater. Know anything about him?"

"Walt Yeater," Nathan repeated. "The name is familiar. I went to school with a Mikey Yeater. Played Little League with him until…" Nathan's voice trailed off as he tried to remember. Suddenly, it came back to him. "…his dad died and the family moved away."

"It may be nothing, but I'd really like to know if Walt Yeater had any dealings with the Brand family."

"We should dig around tomorrow," Nathan commented.

"Yeah. Or at least I should. _You_ should rest."

"I'm fine, Parker."

"Nathan," Audrey began to contradict him.

"I mean it. I'm fine."

It was then that Audrey realized Nathan's proximity. His right arm brushed against her left arm. She could feel his breath along the curve of her neck. It would be so easy to just reach out and …

"The fever's gone, isn't it?" Nathan's words brought her out of her daze.

"I think so."

"So I'm not hot anymore?" His lips curled ever-so-slightly.

If Audrey didn't know better, she'd think Nathan was flirting with her. But this was Nathan. And she did know better. Not that she didn't find her own face growing warm.

She looked back at the journal she held, her eyes scouring the page for something new, while Nathan turned his attention back to the television, some show about two guys who dug through people's trash for things to sell.

"Wait a minute," she murmured a few minutes later. "There's a page missing. Maybe more." Audrey tugged at the binding. "These are in here tight. It has to be deliberate."

Nathan ran his right hand over his chin, an unconscious gesture. "Do you think Julia…"

"No." Audrey shook her head. "You know what would be really nice? If just once something was actually easy."

"May I?" Nathan asked reaching for the notebook.

"Might as well," Audrey replied passing it to him.

He examined the journal. The pages did indeed jump. Eleanor's words on one page ended with _'A young woman stopped by the…_' and the next page continued with _'…how to make this easier for them.'_

"This is near the time when my mom—" Nathan's voice broke off. "I think I know where the page went."

Audrey grasped his meaning immediately. "Your dad."

"But why? What would he have to hide?"

"If we knew that…" Audrey's voice trailed off.

Nathan took a proverbial step back from his assumption. "Seems like a lot of trouble to go to. Maybe Eleanor herself did it."

"But surely there are things far more damning in there. Your mom's death was tragic, but have you ever known it to be Troubles related?"

"No, but some people don't talk about them. Attribute the Troubles to more natural, more acceptable causes."

"So…"

"Yep." Nathan ran his fingers along the page, feeling none of the tactile comfort he used to find in the touching of the written word. He scanned the page, hoping to find some clue he'd overlooked. And there it was. "Audrey, look at this. I think Eleanor's…"

Audrey looked over at the journal. "She's talking about Lucy. Her involvement with the tragedy."

Garland Wuornos's words came back to Audrey in a rush. _"You're wasting your time and mine. The only person who drowned around that time was Nathan here's mother, and Lucy Ripley sure as hell didn't bring her back to life."_

And then it clicked.

Audrey struggled to form the words, to wrap her mind around the pieces of the puzzle. This was surreal. And horrifying. And yet there it was.

"Nathan, I think Lucy was with your mom when she died."

* * *

To be continued...


	16. Teetering on the Edge

**Disclaimer: **I think at this point you know I don't own _Haven_, nor do I make any profit, etc.**  
**

**Author's Notes: **Well, I seem to take forever to update, but the good news is that chapter 17 is nearly finished except for some fine-tuning. Thanks so much to all of you who continue to read. It's so gratifying that after all this time, you're still hanging in there with me. And to those of you who leave reviews, they really do mean the world. Thank you so much!

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: "Teetering on the Edge"**

_He was suspended in blackness as deep as a starless night, petrified. It was more than the lack of color, the lack of light, which startled him. The peculiar rolling in the pit of his stomach served as a reminder that his surroundings were devoid of anything. _

Open your eyes.

_The command was one of automaticity, but he didn't know if his body was cooperating with him or not. He _thought_ his eyes were open, but all that was above, beneath, and beside him was a barren nothingness. _

_Nothing but…voices. Faint. Faraway._

_He strained to hear them. But the voices were jumbled, as though his ears were enveloped in cotton. _

Open your eyes.

_He was spent. It took too much energy to simply be._

_And then in the darkness, he could feel her. The softness of her warm hands against the cool skin of his face. _

"_Open your eyes, Nathan."_

The blaring of the alarm jolted Nathan Wuornos awake. Where was he? His eyes adjusted to the surroundings, as the hint of morning light peeked through the blinds. His bedroom. Of course.

He sat up and pushed aside the covers, feeling none of the softness of the sheets (an ex-girlfriend had sworn by Egyptian cotton and a high thread count he couldn't even recall). He may as well have floated as he moved from the bedroom to the adjoining bathroom to relieve himself. After all, he couldn't feel his feet hit the floor or anything else except for the ghost of his dream.

What a dream. Over the years, he'd find himself forgetting it entirely—until it grappled him once more. He'd given up trying to figure out what it all meant. What did any dream mean, after all? Surely this had no more meaning than the time he dreamed that Duran Duran interrupted Sunday services at Good Shepherd Church to hold an impromptu concert.

With the echoes of the reverie fading from his mind, he opened the shower door and turned on the water, letting it warm for a few moments before measuring its temperature with a thermometer. Once satisfied that he wouldn't unwittingly burn himself, he stepped inside the shower.

The warm water washed over him. Not that the heat was perceptible to him through his tactile senses; rather, the steam forming on the shower door told him what his nerve endings couldn't. It was mornings like this that he missed those small pleasures the most; warmth relaxing his muscles, the steam awakening his air passages. On this particular morning, he could have used something other than willpower to get him going.

Of course, after the night he'd had before, what was he expecting? One step forward, two steps back.

He washed himself quickly, lathering soap on his skin. One thing about the return of his affliction, he generally didn't take long showers anymore.

Reaching for the faucet, Nathan turned off the water, his movements cautious to avoid reopening his wounds. Though as he looked at them, he thought he could already detect signs of the healing process.

Three parallel marks. Just as Audrey had seen.

It was strange to even consider it. If it had been anyone else, he would've thought the person was in need of a straightjacket or else Troubled. But didn't those marks prove that at least some of what Audrey had seen was coming to pass? Either that, or it was a hell of a coincidence.

When she had confided in him what she had envisioned, he had tried to brush aside the emotions it had stirred within him. And still he'd been left with hope, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

In the time she'd been in Haven, she'd gone from being a stranger to being the most important person in his life. He had tried not to let himself go there, but it seemed that every single course change he took as he tried to avoid crossing that imaginary boundary kept him teetering on the edge nonetheless.

Audrey was everything to him, but after the way she'd torn out of there the night before, he was pretty damn certain that the last thing she needed was him complicating her life even further.

After Nathan left the shower and stepped out onto the bathmat, he reached back and collected his thermometer before returning it to its receptacle on the edge of the sink. Running his hands over the steam-fogged mirror, he caught sight of himself. He needed to shave. An electric shaver would do; it wasn't as close as using an actual razor, but it was safer when he couldn't feel how much pressure he was exerting on the blade against his skin.

He'd take care of it. Sometime.

With a towel slung around his waist, he tramped back into his bedroom to find something to wear when he heard a door close elsewhere in the house, followed by footsteps. Frowning, he walked to his nightstand, conscious of his own tread, and retrieved his sidearm, his training kicking in. Standing against the wall near the door, he peered down the hallway and saw Audrey turn the corner.

He cursed mildly and lowered his weapon. "You nearly got yourself killed."

Audrey's eyes widened at the sight of Nathan. "I called. And knocked. You never answered."

"I must've been taking a shower." Nathan looked down at his near nakedness. "Excuse me."

"Oh, right. I'm just going to-" she pointed toward the living room.

* * *

When Nathan emerged from his bedroom a few minutes later, Audrey was alternately relieved and disappointed to see that he'd dressed. She wasn't sure what was more surprising: seeing Nathan standing in nothing but a towel with water droplets running down his chest, or knowing she had been on the opposite end of his Glock.

He was back in jeans and wearing a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. He looked as though he'd stepped out of an L.L. Bean catalog.

She could see his hesitation as he approached her. He spoke tentatively. "Despite the earlier greeting, it's good to see you this morning."

"It was _really_ good to see you, too. _Is_ good to see you, I mean. _Is_." Her face was hot, and she felt ridiculous. Since when did she get so tongue tied around him? She hoped he didn't notice. "When you didn't answer the phone, I was worried."

Nathan pointed to Audrey's wet hair. "Must've come over in a hurry."

Audrey ran a hand through her still-damp hair, which was in danger of turning into a wavy mess. "Like I said, I was worried." She half scowled. "I'm pretty sure my socks don't match either."

"You don't have to worry about me, you know."

"Somebody has to. Look at you. You're not even wearing your sling."

"It's a lot easier to do things without it," Nathan replied. "Even managed to dress myself."

"You're not going to keep that arm immobile without it," Audrey scolded him.

"That's sort of the point of keeping it off."

She groaned. "I see I have my work cut out for me today."

But Nathan's mind was on something else entirely. "You took off fast last night."

His words hung in the air a moment, and she watched the emotions play across his face. Concern. Compassion. Understanding. With everything they were finding out and had yet to find out, she didn't have the words then, and she didn't have them now. It had been too much for her to process, but she didn't want to keep running from the one person who could help her make sense of everything.

She exhaled. "I'm sorry. That wasn't…I just…"

"You don't have to explain. I get it. You're here now. Did you get any sleep?"

"A little."

He looked at her pointedly.

"Sleep's overrated anyway." She tried to sound nonchalant, but the expression that crossed his face let her know he wasn't buying it.

"Want some swill?" The slightest hint of a smile played upon his lips.

She shrugged. "It'll probably take a gallon or two."

The two walked to the kitchen, and Audrey watched as he filled the coffeemaker with water and retrieved a hand cranked coffee grinder from the cupboard.

"Better let me," she offered when she realized it was a two-handed job.

He didn't offer up a fight. "Bought some coffee creamer to make it taste more like dessert for you."

"Yeah, I saw that last night. That was really…nice," she replied as she turned the crank. The scent of the freshly ground coffee beans wafted upward, awakening her senses. She passed the container of grounds to Nathan.

"You say it like you're surprised."

"I was. I am."

"Why?" Nathan asked measuring the grounds for the coffee maker.

Did he really want to have this conversation? Julia had suggested his gesture was because he cared for her as more than a friend. Audrey had wondered the same but had tried to push it aside. For all she knew, he was trying to expand his coffee horizons. And that's what she had tried to stick with because the alternative meaning behind it…

"It's too early for questions, Detective Wuornos," she replied, looking at him with bleary eyes.

"Then I won't even ask what kept you up." Nathan pressed the brew button on the machine, and the coffeemaker chugged to life.

"Why ask when you already know." She leaned against the counter. "I'd give anything to know what those missing pages say."

"You know the likelihood of us ever tracking them down is…"

"Yeah."

Nathan cut to the chase. "Parker, we don't even know that Lucy was with my mom. Not really."

"Come on."

"Even if she was, from what I know of Lucy—_from what I know of you_—it would have been to help her."

Audrey wanted to believe that, but if Lucy had tried to help Holly Wuornos, why was everything so hush-hush? "Your dad, he's…"

"Bitter."

"No, it's more than that. It's not spite. It's something else." Audrey furrowed her brow and lightly chewed on her bottom lip.

"I know that look."

"I'm just thinking."

"Should I be worried?"

"Probably." She paused. "I'm just wondering why I'm here."

"Other than to ridicule my coffee?"

"I'm serious."

Nathan pulled two travel mugs from the cabinet below the counter. "Isn't it a little early in the day for an existential crisis?"

"I don't know whether I believe in fate or coincidence, but I'm starting to think that my being here in Haven isn't either of those. And I think your dad knows way more about what I'm doing here than he lets on."

"But you came in on a case."

"I know. But do you know how many FBI agents are out there? Why did Agent Howard request _me_?"

"He knows you liked weirdness."

"Yeah, well, I like _you_, don't I?" She took a deep breath. "I just…for all the thousands of questions I've asked since being here, I never questioned why I'm here. But now…" She took a deep breath. "I'm tied to this place, but I still don't know how the hell that is possible. Was I really Lucy? I don't feel like her, but the scar..."

"You're you."

"Whoever that is," she muttered.

"Audrey Parker. Audrey _Prudence_ Parker." He wrinkled his nose as he said her middle name.

Despite the heaviness she felt, she couldn't help but chuckle. "Make fun all you want, but Thaddeus isn't much better."

"You want to stop by Rosemary's on the way in to work?"

"You're not going to work today, Nathan."

"Yes, I am."

"You're going to overdo it. Are you even bandaged back up?" When he looked sheepishly away, she muttered, "Unbelievable." She spotted the first aid kit on the counter where they'd left it the night before. "I'll help you with your bandage."

"Not that I'm complaining, but I can…" his voice trailed off as she began to steer him toward a barstool, her hands on his forearms. He allowed her to seat him there, if for no other reason than he was startled by her proximity and the feel of her small hands against his skin. Warmth. Softness. Verve.

She reached down, untucked his shirt, and began to methodically unbutton it. He could feel her fingers grazing his skin very lightly as she pushed the shirt over his shoulders.

Her eyes fell on the wound under his collarbone. Three parallel marks, just as she'd seen in her vision.

Entranced, her fingers traced the area around the marks, careful not to get too close and cause pain. She was glad to see his body had started to mend itself; truthfully, she was a bit surprised by how well. Though the wounds would require care, she had anticipated that they would look far worse than they appeared.

She looked up, caught his eyes, and laughed nervously before reaching for a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "I'll try not to hurt you. Guess I'm the only one who could, right?"

But the words seemed far away to Nathan's ears. All he could absorb was the warmth of her breath, the scent of her shampoo (cherry) mingling with isopropyl alcohol, and the feel of her skin against his as she tended to his wounds. She stood between his thighs, and for a brief moment, his imagination began a journey all on its own. What would she do if he pulled her closer to himself? Or if he peppered kisses along the column of her neck?

She finally pressed tape along the perimeter of the gauze she had placed atop his wounds. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed that she'd broken off the sweet torment of contact.

"We'll check on it later today."

"After work?"

Audrey frowned and threw him her best 'You've got to be kidding me' look. "Nathan, you lost a lot of blood yesterday and you were running a fever. Seriously, I think you should stay home today. Rest."

"Says the woman who got…exactly how much sleep?"

She shook her head. "Damn." She twisted the cap closed on the alcohol. "Okay, but you're wearing the sling."

He slid off the stool. "Agreed."

"And I'm driving," Audrey added.

"That's negotiable."

* * *

"Good morning, Nathan," Mary Regan called out as she opened the door to the art supply shop she owned. Her voice reminded Audrey of a cat's purr, an open invitation to touch, just as her bounding toward the duo on the sidewalk reminded Audrey of a cat about to pounce on its prey. "Officer Parker," Mary added as almost an afterthought.

"Mary," Nathan greeted cordially but without enthusiasm.

"Poor thing! What have you gone and done to yourself now?" The brunette shopkeeper crossed her arms, which combined with her low-cut blouse served to showcase her ample cleavage.

Audrey watched Nathan to see what information he would reveal. "Just the usual."

Mary accepted his vague answer, evidently accustomed to seeing him in various states of injury. "You've not been in for awhile. I still have that can of decoupage varnish you ordered. And as always, I'd be happy to show you some other artistic flourishes." She lowered her gaze before looking up at him through veiled lashes. "And I think I can manage to work with you one-handed."

"I'll bet," Audrey muttered.

"I'll try to come in this week to pick it up," Nathan replied.

"I look forward to seeing you. As always."

As the partners continued walking on toward Rosemary's Bakery, Audrey grimaced. "Wow. That was interesting."

"What?"

"I think if you would've been receptive, she would've dragged you to the back of her store without question."

Nathan shot her a look that said it all. _You're crazy._

"What's she going to do with those in the winter months?"

"What are you talking about?" For as often as they were on the same wavelength, there were those other occasions that Nathan felt like he needed a translator.

"Seriously? You didn't notice? You know. _Those_."

"Notice _what_?" he asked. "Oh, you mean the fact she was…" he pointed to his chest and rounded outward with his hand. "That's how she always dresses."

"Yeah. Well, has she always thrown herself at you like that?"

"We went out a few times. She's friendly." They stopped at the intersection, waiting for the light traffic to clear so they could continue.

"You and Mary?" Audrey asked incredulously.

"Why are you surprised?"

"She's just so…"

"So what?" Nathan asked.

Audrey searched for the right word before settling on, "Obvious."

"And what kind of woman do you picture me with, Parker?"

"Pfft. I try not to. You've got no game with women."

"That's what you keep saying, but according to your vision, I've got game with you."

The two crossed the road, and Audrey thought she detected an extra bounce in his step. "I knew that was going to come back to haunt me." She fixed her gaze toward the bakery, not willing to look him in the eyes. "So what's your poison today?"

* * *

"Any word from the lab in Bangor on those samples from the Brand Estate?" Audrey asked Stan as she walked into the bullpen, muffin in hand.

After her recent infatuation with Rosemary's cupcakes, she was trying to get more sensible pastries. Not an easy task, especially with Nathan indulging in a bear claw. She would've killed for something glazed, which likely attributed to her comment about Nathan's continued run-ins with claws, which even she found incredibly lame.

She needed sleep. Only that would save her from the realm of cheesy jokes and general foolishness. Either sleep or more coffee. She had already guzzled the concoction they'd brewed at his house.

"None yet," her mild-mannered co-worker replied looking up from his desk.

"I wonder what's holding them up. I'd really like a rush on this."

"I know what it looked like to me," Stan replied. "Unless the trees have gone Hollywood and used corn syrup for blood..."

"Yeah. Things are getting stranger and stranger around here."

"You doing something different with your hair, Audrey?" Stan asked.

Audrey smoothed it, a hopeless task, and groaned in response. Stan grimaced, realizing the timing of his question left much to be desired. His wife got onto him for the same thing all the time. At least he didn't vocalize the 'speaking of strange' mental transition that made him leap to the subject of her uncharacteristically unruly hair.

"Sorry," he mouthed.

When Audrey returned to the office she shared with Nathan, she set the muffin on her desk and looked at a printed list of phone numbers on the corkboard hanging on the wall and spotted the Bangor lab. "Be patient. Be patient."

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Garland Wuornos asked when he saw Nathan in his office doorway.

"Last I checked, I work here."

The Chief dropped a pen on his desk and leaned back in his swivel chair. "Audrey was supposed to keep you home today."

"Parker's the one who brought me to work," Nathan replied as he moved further into the office.

"Then I suppose you should make yourself useful." The older man pointed to a stack of file folders on the corner of his desk. "Take those folders down to the records archives. File 'em. And, uh, don't bleed on everything."

"Are you serious?" Disbelief dripped from Nathan's voice.

"What? It's beneath you? I've got the equivalent of a one-armed man standing in front of me and he thinks he's got more important things to do like the save the world."

"I need to talk to you."

"We're talking." Garland's tone was impatient.

"Just…" Nathan took a deep breath.

"Look, we already know how this conversation is going to end up. I'm going to say the wrong thing, and you're going to storm off. Let's save each other the trouble, and you just take the files and do clerical work for the day since you've snookered Audrey into bringing you."

Despite his father's dismissive tone, Nathan would not be deterred. "I need to talk to you about Mom."

"I walk through that door, I'm the Chief of Police."

Only when it was convenient for him, Nathan thought to himself. Did the old man really want to play that game? "Fine. You're the Chief of Police. I'm coming to you as a _citizen_. Let's talk about the drowning case of Holly Wuornos."

"You're coming to me as an asshole. Leave your mother in peace."

His father's stony expression did not dissuade Nathan. "Was Lucy Ripley with her when she died?"

"This isn't an interrogation."

"Yes or no?" Nathan persisted.

"Leave it alone."

"Yes or no?"

Garland practically growled, "There's no conspiracy here. Accidents happen. Stirring up the past isn't going to bring her back or make you feel better."

"You're not answering my question. Was Lucy Ripley with Mom when she died?"

The Chief's expression twisted between anger and incredulity. "What would even make you ask that?"

"Your non-answer tells me what I need to know."

"I won't relive it. Not for you. Not for Audrey."

Nathan's brows furrowed. "What does Audrey have to do with this?"

"I'm not a fool. She's why you're asking, isn't she? It's good to have a partner you trust, but don't mistake that trust for something else."

"I know what you're doing. Turning this around."

The Chief chuckled, a caustic sound if ever there was one. "You think you're in love with her, don't you?"

Nathan didn't answer.

"Right. There are things about her that you don't know. Things she doesn't know about herself."

Nathan's eyes narrowed. "But _you_ know, don't you?"

Garland shook his head. "You know Audrey Parker far better than I do."

Nathan pointed his finger at his father. "But you knew Lucy Ripley and you know the connection that she and Audrey share. Did you bring her here?"

"Those papers aren't going to file themselves, you know."

"I'm not going to stop digging."

"Wouldn't expect any less."

* * *

Later when Nathan joined Audrey in their shared office, he heard her speaking animatedly. "What do you mean you _lost_ the sample? No…it is _not_ the same as misplaced! Well, keep looking." She hung up the phone. "Unfreakingbelievable."

"Was that what I think it was?" he asked before taking a sip of the coffee he'd brought from home that had been sitting on his desk for over close to two hours. It was probably cold. A few years ago, there was no way he would've touched the stuff. Now it made no difference.

"The lab in Bangor lost the sample we sent from the oozing trees."

"The blood."

"Well, we'd know for sure if they hadn't lost the sample," she grumbled.

"Visions. Bleeding trees."

"Mountain lions," Audrey added.

"Busy week," he deadpanned.

"I think I'm headed for a caffeine crash. Maybe we can start an IV drip. Feed the coffee straight into my veins."

"Maybe you should take the rest of the day off. Get some sleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead. Where've you been anyway?"

"On a fool's errand." Bitterness crept into his voice.

"Uh oh."

"It's not important."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yep."

She hesitated as she considered pursuing more information, but she ultimately decided that when Nathan wanted to share what had happened, he would. "So while you were on your…fool's errand…I was trying to find out more about some of the new-old players in our town. Charlie Thornhill for starters."

"For Duke's sake," Nathan commented dryly.

"Well, you know, I thought it might help Duke. Plus the real estate agents appreciate a lower murder rate, so if I can help the local housing market…"

"What did you find?"

"Not much. He's been back for about two-and-a-half years but has kept a low profile. Before that, he lived in Oregon for nearly a decade where he worked for the Bureau of Land Management. He got divorced shortly before moving back to Haven. I retrieved a PDF of the filing from the Harney County Court Clerk's Office."

"So on a scale of 1 to Adele, the breakup seems…"

"Amicable," she replied. "They split the communal property equally. No spousal support was awarded. No children. But that's not the most interesting thing I've spotted. Come around and look at this."

Nathan walked around the desk. She started to get up to give him her chair, but he waved her off. "I'm fine to stand."

"Check out this picture. It's from the Bureau of Land Management's website." Audrey pointed at a picture on the screen of her computer, and Nathan leaned over to get a better look and once again caught a whiff of her cherry shampoo.

"It looks like it's from an awards ceremony of some kind."

"And there are more. Lots more. Check out the date in the description."

Nathan focused on a caption beneath the pictures. "That's just a few months before he moved back to Haven."

"His arms are showing, and there are no tattoos."

"So what exactly are you going to do with this mind-blowing information?" he asked, his expression impassive.

She knew him well enough to know when he was being sarcastic. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Well, I thought it was interesting," Audrey defended. "The guy moves back, gets a tattoo that we've seen on the arms of men who've died of early-onset old age. And Vanessa Stanley told Duke that a man with that same tattoo would kill him. Obviously, the old dead guys aren't going to do it, but if the tattoo is not all that unique, what's the connection between those men and Charlie Thornhill that they would have the same tattoo?"

"Okay. That warrants digging. What else do you have?"

"I've been researching Ephraim Brand."

"And what deep, dark secrets have you unearthed? Anything to rival Charlie's non-tattoos in Orgeon?"

"Actually, no."

"No?"

"There isn't much information out there about the enigmatic Mr. Brand. According to local tax records, he pays his property taxes on time. He contributes to various charitable causes. Oh, and he evidently has an impressive art collection, as showcased in _Architectural Digest_."

"Nothing else?"

"The lack of information is, I think, more interesting than what little bit of information _is_ out there. For a man who is the only heir to a fortune enormous beyond the dreams of Jack Sparrow, you'd think there would at least be tabloid stories linking him to a celebrity of some sort. And photographs of him? Forget it."

"None at all?"

"Nada one. Even _you_ have pictures online."

"What'd you do? Google me, Parker?"

The phone on her desk rang. "Maybe it's the lab again." Nathan moved to his desk own desk and sat on its edge as she lifted the phone receiver to her ear. "Parker here."

"_Officer Parker." _ The deep, accented voice on the other end was immediately recognizable to her.

"Mr. Brand."

"_Please. Call me Ephraim."_

"All right. What can I do for you, Ephraim?"

"_One of the groundskeepers found something I thought you would want to see. Are you available to come to my estate?"_

Was this a game? If so, there was one way to find out. "What do you want me to see?"

"_If I'm right, it's the devil who attacked your partner yesterday in the woods."_

Audrey's brows furrowed. Okay. Definitely not a game. "Stay clear of it. There's no sense in putting yourself in danger."

"_I assure you, it's no threat."_

"Give me half an hour."

"What was that about?" Nathan asked after she hung up the phone. "You suddenly look perky."

"Only because I think we have an opportunity to get to the bottom of what's going on at the Brand Estate."

"You're optimistic."

"You coming or what?" Audrey asked grabbing her jacket. "Oh, hold on a sec." She retrieved a hairbrush from the drawer of her desk and ran it through her unruly hair before pulling it back into a ponytail.

"You're grooming yourself for him?"

"I'm brushing my hair because evidently it looks frightening. Now if I put on this mascara," she added holding up a tube of the cosmetic, "that would be grooming myself for him."

* * *

To be continued...


	17. The Cruelty of Hope

******Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**  
**

**Author's Note:** I'm going to be able to knock you over with a feather. Two updates in three days' time. Whoa.

Special thanks go out to nertoooold54, scarlotti, Aedammair, Artemis Rayne, and BeccabooO1O for their kind reviews of chapter 16.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: "The Cruelty of Hope"**

Sally Harrington ran a feather duster over the ornate mahogany paneling in the foyer and one persistent thought crept into her consciousness again: _I'm getting too old for this_. Though if she were to be perfectly honest with herself, it wasn't the job as much as it was everything that came along with it.

After Sally had graduated high school and applied for the job as housekeeper at Brand House on a whim, she hadn't given the opportunity much thought. Why would Ephraim Brand hire her? She had no work experience—other than babysitting and chores around her family's comparatively meager home. And as for _life _experience, she might as well have been a babe in the woods.

Yet she had been hired. And she kept vigil over the stone manor house. That had been nearly thirty years ago.

From the beginning, she liked her employer very much, taking special pains to enhance her appearance. Leaving the blouse of her uniform partially unbuttoned, always aware of using her body—even while doing chores—to show it to its full advantage.

And she watched Mr. Brand. His moods were mercurial, she soon discovered. He could be incredibly kind, but his cuts could be the cruelest of them all. And more than anything, he was stunning to behold. Not in an overt way. It was more than the planes of his face, the proportion of his features, or the broadness of his shoulders. It was a gracefulness that she had rarely seen in men. Masculine, powerful, and artistic.

She loved him.

If he knew, he never acknowledged it. They maintained a professional distance. But she watched. Oh, yes, she watched him. Watched him with his wife, how possessive he was of her. Watched him influence those around him. Sometimes she fancied he could bend them to his will.

But maybe that was the blindness of love.

Sally never called him Ephraim to his face, but back then, she thought his name. Said it with a sigh all the time, along with hers. She doodled it in her journals. Ephraim and Sallina (Sally was too common) Brand. She just knew that one day, he would realize the woman he professed to love was not whom he believed her to be.

And then the troubled times came again. People whispered of curses, of deals with the devil. Mostly, people whispered of fear and where it was all leading and whose side they would defend when the moment came.

Twenty-seven years later, Sally wasn't sure that things were much different.

Mr. Brand left Haven, only for his son to return after a lengthy absence in his stead. Since the son's arrival, the house had taken on a different air. It teetered with a nervous excitement, with anticipation. He would have been a boy all those years ago, but she couldn't recall his ever visiting the family estate tucked away in their small corner of the world.

What she did know was he was very much like his father. The sight of Ephraim's son took her back all those years to when she felt young and foolish and ardent, and she wondered whatever became of the girl she had been. Oh, the years wasted waiting for a man to come back who never would! She confronted that brutal reminder each day. And each day she did her job and hoped the outside world wouldn't collapse on her own private haven.

The deep sound of the door chimes drew her from her musings. The outside world, indeed. She walked to the door, swinging it open, to welcome the expected visitors.

"I'm Detective Wuornos. This is Officer Parker," the tall man in the doorway said.

"Please come in. Mr. Brand will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," the man replied.

He was handsome, Sally thought, in a common way. Though he must not be graceful, not with his left arm in a sling. The man's expression did not change as he walked into the house, but the female with him examined the two-story entryway with the keenest interest. Of course, why wouldn't she be impressed? The manor house was a sight to behold, with its polished woodcarvings, lavish light fixtures, and art displays. The man who appeared unimpressed was an anomaly.

"Might I prepare you some tea?" Sally asked, adhering to her duties.

"None for me, thank you," the woman answered.

Her voice gave Sally pause.

* * *

The middle-aged woman's eyes widened, Audrey noticed, before she hastily excused herself.

"That was strange. Guess you don't rate around here. She didn't even wait for _your_ response," Audrey teased her partner.

Nathan hardly looked disappointed. "I'm not really up for tea at the Brand Estate anyway."

"He made it sound so urgent on the phone. I wonder what the hold up is."

"Probably wants to make an entrance," Nathan hypothesized.

"All of this based on his name?" Audrey continued a feeble attempt to take everything in, but she felt like she was in a sensory overload. Everything about the place was spectacular, from the imposing, winding staircase to the art displays set up around the spacious foyer. "I like this one. The story behind it, too."

"A depiction of Pandora and her box?" Nathan asked with surprise as he glanced at the painting Audrey had pointed out. "You like a myth about a woman who essentially releases evil into the world? Goes against the whole 'I am woman, hear me roar'."

True enough, the myth didn't say much for men's characterizations of women and their perceived weaknesses. Not that Audrey considered curiosity to be a terrible weakness. "Pandora also gave the world hope."

Nathan's eyes fell on the painting again, on the grotesque monsters that poured from the box, soaring into the air with veiny, skin-covered bat wings. The lone piece of beauty in the painting, save for Pandora herself, was a white-winged creature with angelic features, who touched Pandora's brow in an apparent effort to comfort the young woman, distraught over her actions. "The ancient Greeks didn't think hope was a good quality. Kind of flies in the face of fate, doesn't it? To hope for something else, hope you can change your destiny? It was a cruelty."

"Is that what hope has been to you, Nathan?" she asked softy. He didn't answer, but she saw his jaw clench. It struck her sometimes—usually when she inserted her foot in her mouth—that Nathan's experiences, his life, hadn't been easy. Losing his mother at such a young age, dealing with a condition that literally isolated him from the world around him, the lonesomeness. She remembered when she first came to Haven how guarded he had been about anything personal. It had taken time, but they had built trust between them. But there were some times still when his defenses would reemerge.

"Right. Well, the way I figure it, hope is what sees us through the darkest of times." She cleared her throat. "I didn't know you were a student of mythology."

Nathan shrugged. "I like the History Channel."

She thought it was more than that.

His eyes swept the room. "I feel like I'm stuck in _Night at the Museum_."

"There could be a pancake bar in here, and you'd still find a reason to dislike it," Audrey challenged with a twinkle in her eye.

"What about you? Packing your bags to move in here yet?"

Audrey chuckled. "Well, I _have_ been thinking about moving out of the B&B."

"I apologize for the delay," came a crisply accented voice. "I'm afraid I had a business call that simply could not be postponed. I trust the wait has not been too long."

"Not long at all. We were just admiring your art," Audrey replied.

"I'd love to show you more of it sometime," Brand offered, his voice velvety smooth. He looked to Nathan and nodded. "Ephraim Brand."

"Nathan Wuornos."

"You must alternately be one of the most fortunate and _un_fortunate men I've ever met."

"How so?"

Ephraim's eyes lingered on Audrey. "Fortunate to work with such a lovely partner. And unfortunate to be the victim of a practically unprecedented attack. I'm pleased to see you're recovering so quickly."

"So you've found the mountain lion?" Audrey asked.

"Yes. Or more accurately, one of the groundskeepers did, though I have seen the creature myself."

"How have you managed to contain it?" Nathan asked.

"Perhaps it's better to show rather than tell."

"Let's go," Audrey replied without hesitation.

"Are you certain you're up for the walk?" Ephraim asked Nathan. "As you know, the terrain can be challenging."

"It's my arm that's injured, not my leg. Besides," Nathan looked down at his sling-bound arm, "it doesn't hurt."

"A man of iron constitution. Admirable."

But Nathan scowled. Something about the other man's praise seemed off. Much like everything about the Brand Estate. Even if he could feel pain, there was no way in hell he would leave Audrey alone with a veritable stranger, particularly one whose last name was Brand. Of course, it was a good thing she wasn't a mind reader. Otherwise, she'd be pissed by the surge of protectiveness he felt for her.

* * *

"The groundskeeper found the creature over here." Brand led Audrey and Nathan through the wooded path.

The place was becoming familiar, both in the sights and in the eerie quiet of the woods. Suddenly, an overwhelming sweetness assaulted Nathan's nostrils, nearly making his stomach lurch. But as he looked to Audrey, she didn't seem bothered and was looking intently ahead. Brand also appeared unaffected by the scent.

Finally, as the trio came to a small clearing, the mountain lion was visible.

The first thing that struck Nathan was that it was far, far larger than a house cat. The second thing that crossed his mind was an intense preference for dogs. And the third thing he realized in quick succession was that the animal was not moving. No wonder Brand was unconcerned about his own safety; the lion was dead.

Audrey asked, "How long ago did your groundskeeper find him?"

"Actually, it's a her," Ephraim corrected. "I would say an hour ago at the most."

Audrey crossed her arms and looked over to her partner. "Well, Nathan, it looks like we've found your attacker. This isn't exactly what I was expecting."

"Is that an arrow?" Nathan asked as he drew closer to the animal stretched out atop leaves. A wooden shaft appeared to protrude from beneath the base of the skull.

Audrey sheathed her hands in latex gloves and knelt on the ground next to the body to more closely examine the scene. She felt the rough-hewn arrow. "Not like what they sell in the sports store. This is more primitive."

Nathan knelt beside her. "I've seen something like this arrow before."

"Where?"

"Haven Museum. Mi'kmaq exhibit."

Audrey ran her hands along the body of the feline. "Feels cool to the touch. _Rigor mortis_ has set in."

"No signs of putrefaction. Death must've been more than three hours, less than…" Nathan mentally counted back to his own encounter with the animal, "…twenty-one. Assuming it's the same mountain lion."

"You think it might not be?" Audrey asked.

"Didn't get a good look at it," Nathan admitted. "Of course, how many mountain lions can there be around here?"

"Quite honestly, I'm stunned there was the one," Brand interjected.

Audrey examined the wound more closely. "And yet not only has there been at least one mountain lion, but it's also been killed using what looks to be a really old arrow, or at least one that is old-fashioned. This kill shot…someone knew what he or she was doing."

"Do you allow hunting on your land, Mr. Brand?" Nathan asked.

"No. Over the years, my family has tried to open our land to the community for occasional uses, but hunting is not one of them."

Nathan peered at the ground near the body. "Don't see a blood trail. He didn't run here with a mortal wound."

"Looks like there's blood pooled under the body. With this much blood, he wasn't moved here, either."

"How peculiar that someone went to the trouble to shoot the creature but then left his body behind," Brand commented.

"No offense, but everything about this place is strange," Audrey replied.

"None taken," Brand replied with a hint of a smile.

"So whose jurisdiction does this fall under?" Audrey asked Nathan.

"You've not read the HPD manual yet," her partner stated flatly.

"I'm pacing myself," Audrey shrugged. "And that's what I have you for, to keep me from stepping in sh-..." she looked up at Ephraim and amended her word, "stuff."

Nathan noticed her speech alteration but did not comment on it. "Typically the Maine Department of Fisheries and Wildlife."

The opening notes of "O Fortuna" from _Carmina Burana_ filtered through the silence of the woods. It took Nathan a only a moment to register it was a cell phone ring tone and only half a moment to be struck by how it spoke volumes about its owner.

Brand pulled a sleek phone from the inner pocket of his jacket. "I'm expecting an important call. Please excuse me a moment." With that, he strode toward the path from which they'd come, standing away from Nathan and Audrey.

"If we call them, it's more bureaucracy. They're going to make it tougher to get the answers about this place that we need," she commented once she was certain Brand was out of earshot.

"It is the law," Nathan pointed out. "And as officers of the law, we must enforce all state laws…eventually."

"So what are you thinking?"

"We get our own blood sample."

Audrey shot him a look of surprise. "Won't the wildlife agency test Kitty here for rabies and other communicable diseases?"

Nathan's brows furrowed. "Don't you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

"The sweetness in the air. It's mixing with the coppery scent of blood."

"You and your sensitive nose," Audrey muttered. "No, I don't smell it at all."

"It's the same scent as when we were here the other day with the bleeding trees."

"You want to compare blood samples," Audrey realized.

"I have a hunch."

"Okay. I can't believe I'm the one trying to be the voice of reason here, but you're talking about comparing an animal and a tree. Two totally unrelated things."

"You tell me the last time you saw bleeding trees," Nathan shot back. "Besides, they're not unrelated. They have these woods in common, this place. They have _him_ in common." Nathan tilted his head in the direction of Brand, who appeared to be involved in a rather animated conversation. "You just said this place is strange."

"There's one problem. The lab in Bangor misplaced the earlier sample. You know that already."

"And when they find it, we have them cross-reference."

Audrey sighed. "So what do you make of the arrow?" she asked. "You really think it's Mi'kmaq?"

"Looks that way."

"So somebody gets hold of a very old arrow and shoots a very rare mountain lion. What are the chances?"

"Especially with the reputation that this place has."

"Right. I forgot. This place is haunted," she replied with a grin. "And smells sweet."

But Nathan didn't return the smile. "Sickeningly sweet. So are you getting the blood sample, or do I have to take off the sling?"

"You don't fight fair, you know that, Wuornos?"

"No time like the present while your admirer is occupied."

Audrey removed a collection vial from her jacket and retrieved a sample from the animal. "You ever think we're running in circles?"

"All the time."

"So what's the verdict?" Ephraim asked returning to where the partners were knelt next to the lion.

"That's for a jury to decide," Audrey quipped. "We're investigators. We don't get to decide the verdicts." She looked at Nathan. "See? I don't need the manual to tell me that."

"Oh, well, I do hope it's not in the court of public opinion," Brand replied. "Though you certainly strike me as the type of woman who is more than capable of making her own determinations."

Audrey brushed aside his flattery. "Well, there's not a whole lot the Haven PD can do for you on this. Typically, a case like this gets turned over to the game wardens. You know, the ones who like to chase animals…"

"Or chase the people who chase the animals," Nathan supplied.

"Right. If you'd like, Detective Wuornos and I can search the premises for signs of the archer. If we find him or her, you can press charges for trespassing."

"Whomever was here is surely long-gone by now," Brand reasoned. "Though how someone managed to enter such a secure perimeter is beyond me. Nevertheless, the death of a feral cat is a small price to pay to assure that no other lives will be jeopardized."

"Fair enough."

"I'm going to call this in to the state," Nathan told Audrey before standing. He moved a few feet away but stayed well within sight and earshot of his companions.

Audrey removed her gloves and placed them in a bag in her jacket pocket to throw away later. As she started to stand, Ephraim extended his hand to her. Hesitantly, she accepted his assistance and he helped her up. His thumb grazed the back of her hand before he let go, and she could have sworn her toes tingled.

Brushing aside the odd sensation, she asked, "So why'd you call me specifically?"

Brand looked at her intently. "Surely you already know the answer to that."

"My reputation as an investigator precedes me."

"Yes, but that was decidedly not my rationale. I wanted to see _you_."

"Right," Audrey said with a smile as she looked sideways.

"Have I embarrassed you?"

"Why would I be embarrassed?" she asked with a shrug.

"In these parts, the last name Brand brings with it a certain acrimony. I'd prefer not to give the townspeople cause for concern. I thought perhaps you might be able to offer a certain amount of…discretion?"

"So you wanted me here for my discretion?" Audrey asked with a near laugh. "That wasn't what I thought you were going to say."

"You expected me to compliment your eyes, to tell you they're the color of cornflowers on a summer's day, perhaps? Or to convey to you your lips are exquisitely shaped, as though Renoir himself painted them?"

"A woman doesn't expect compliments from a man she barely knows."

"A woman as beautiful as you should," Ephraim responded. "I want to know you better, Audrey Parker. I want to show you my world, but I won't beg."

Audrey opened her mouth to respond, but Nathan's approach diverted her.

"A crew's coming from Derry. Should be here in about an hour to bag the remains."

"Then I guess that's it," Audrey supplied.

Brand shoved his hands in his pockets. "Any update on the substance secreted by the maples? Charlie mentioned you were having it analyzed by a laboratory."

"Not yet," Nathan replied.

"Can a laboratory detect the Troubles at any rate?" Brand asked. "Some things defy science." He looked at Audrey as he added, "They defy reason."

"And how would you define what happens here?" Nathan asked.

"A magic of our own making. At least, that's what my father used to say."

"What did he mean by that?" Audrey asked.

Brand leaned closer, as though to whisper in her ear. "We are all connected. In ways you cannot even begin to imagine."

* * *

"You didn't tell him that the lab lost the sample," Audrey pointed out once they were in her sedan and headed back to town.

"You didn't either," Nathan retorted. "I got the feeling I was interrupting something."

"I was about to score an invitation into Ephraim Brand's 'world,' as he put it."

Nathan half snorted.

"What's that?"

"What?"

"That little noise you just made," Audrey replied.

"What noise?"

"That snort."

"I didn't snort."

"Oh, there was definitely snortage. So what gives?"

"I didn't snort. I do think you can do better than him, though."

"He's handsome, articulate…."

"Pretentious. Obvious."

"No, no, no. Mary Regan is obvious. Ephraim Brand is _determined_."

"He's shady."

"You think everyone's shady," Audrey replied with amusement.

"Did you catch what he said about how we are all connected? I think it was a sly nod to the conversation you and I had about the trees and mountain lion."

"But he was on the phone out of earshot from us. The way you talk, Ephraim Brand might as well be one of those winged monsters from that painting of Pandora and her box."

"I'd be willing to bet that he knows a hell of a lot more about what's going on around here." Nathan looked out the window.

"All the more reason I shouldn't entirely discourage him. You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar. Speaking of which, you've been grumpy most of the day. Ever since your 'fool's errand', as you put it."

"Talked with the chief."

"Oh. So what did he say?"

"It's what he didn't say."

_Like father, like son,_ she thought to herself when Nathan didn't proceed. "Care to elaborate?" She glanced over at him. He had a good poker face. Actually, he had a good face period.

"I asked him about my mom. And about Lucy."

"Whether Lucy was there when she...died?" Dread knotted in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to know. Really she did. Except the fact that Garland Wuornos—and evidently everyone else—had gone to such lengths to keep the matter quiet had her worried about _what_ they'd find out. If Lucy were somehow responsible for what happened to Holly Wuornos, would Nathan ever be able to look at her the same way? Would she be opening her very own Pandora's box?

Nathan nodded. "He wouldn't answer."

Audrey stared straight ahead at the road and tried to be nonchalant, though she felt like her insides were made of Jell-O. "Did you expect he would suddenly become talkative? Seriously, I understand where you get your fluency in monosyllable."

"I thought if asked directly, he'd give me an answer one way or the other, but he kept warning me to let it go."

Audrey took a deep breath. "Maybe you should. For now anyway."

"You serious?"

"I want to know. Believe me, I do. It's just…I don't want it to be at the expense of your relationship with your dad."

"What relationship?" Nathan asked, his deep voice harsh.

"For as imperfect as your dad is, I would give anything to have even that, to know where I come from, where I belong."

Nathan exhaled. He knew where Audrey belonged, even if she didn't. "I've been thinking about something you said the other day."

"You're going to have to narrow that down. I talk a lot."

"I've noticed. You mentioned going to Ohio." He watched as Audrey nodded. "I think you should do it."

"It's not going to tell me about Lucy."

"But it will tell you where you—Audrey Parker—came from."

"Trying to get rid of me, Nathan?" Audrey joked.

"Not quite."

She fell silent a moment. "I've tried before. The sisters at the orphanage haven't been very helpful."

"You aren't using the correct persuasion."

It was Audrey's turn to nearly snort. "And you think you know the way to get a nun to break an oath of secrecy? Good luck with that one."

"Either way, there have to be records. We just need to get hold of them, with or without permission."

"Detective Wuornos, are you beginning a life of crime?"

The half-smile Nathan threw her way gave his answer.

* * *

The silver tray Sally Harrington set before Ephraim Brand on his desk made a slight clank. "Sorry, Sir," she murmured as she began to pour his cup of Earl Grey tea. She mentally cursed herself for her oafishness. Mr. Brand cast such an impressive figure; it was at times easy to forget that this was not the man whom she had so greatly admired. As such, her nervousness had no place.

He took the proffered cup from her and tasted the liquid. "Just the way I like it."

"With a hint of honey, Sir."

"Yes. A hint of honey," he replied absently. His chair turned, providing him a view of the gardens, which still held a lustrous green.

Sally wondered if she was being dismissed with his turn and was about to offer to leave him be, when he surprised her by engaging her in conversation.

"You've been here many years, haven't you, Ms. Harrington?"

"Yes, Mr. Brand."

"And you've never left my family's service."

"No, Mr. Brand."

He turned his chair to face her once again. "I appreciate your loyalty."

Sally found herself beaming, her heart pounding. Oh, he was so much like her Ephraim, from his facial expressions to his debonair accent, so different from the others in town with their "farts in the wind" and "hard telling not knowing" colloquialisms. Sally herself had long adjusted her speech patterns, taking careful pains to avoid dropping her _r'_s, anything to shun sounding like a local.

"And what do you make of my art collection?"

"It's lovely, Sir. Over the years, I've admired it greatly. The new pieces you've acquired, too."

"Detective Wuornos and…Audrey," Ephraim paused as he said her name, "they seemed to enjoy it, as well?"

Sally hesitated. "I cannot say for certain. The man Detective Wuornos, in general, did not appear to appreciate the splendor of Brand House. And the woman, she admired her surroundings, but I—"

"But you what?"

"When I heard her speak and truly looked _at_ her, I must confess I thought I had seen a ghost. She is so much like Lucy Ripley."

"Have you heard others comment on the likeness?"

"I don't frequently go into town, but I've spent the better part of an hour theorizing that perhaps she is a relative…" She studied her employer's handsome face and noticed a shadow cross his features. Had she said something wrong?

And just as quickly, the shadow was gone.

Brand set his teacup on the silver tray and extended his hand. Confused, Sally gaped at him. Was he reaching out to _her_? But the humanity she saw in those green eyes as he gazed upon her gave her courage. Hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his and felt warmth seep within as his thumb caressed her tender flesh.

"Ms. Harrington, there is something I'd like you to do for me."

* * *

To be continued...


	18. Connections

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** It's been such a long time since the last update. **hangs head in shame** I know I say this every time, but for those of you who are still reading, thanks for hanging in there with me! I really do appreciate you more than I could ever express!

When last we left our characters, Nathan's suspicions of Ephraim Brand continued to intensify, particularly in light of all the strange goings-on at the Brand Estate. Audrey's questions about herself have multiplied. Eleanor Carr's journal revealed what is turning out to be a series of mysterious deaths from twenty-seven years ago. Brand himself seems to hold an unnatural allure with some that surround him—and he is interesting himself with Audrey. And the partners find themselves teetering on the edge of becoming far more intimate.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: "Connections"**

The Haven Museum wasn't exactly the Boston Museum of Natural History. In fact, Audrey was more than reasonably certain the entire Haven Museum could fit into the grand lobby of the Boston Museum, though she had to concede that her memory may have made the Boston Museum's atrium loom larger than it really was. Nevertheless, just as Nathan had said, the local museum did boast a rather extensive exhibit related to the area Mi'kmaq tribes, mixed in among the maritime fare.

"Looks familiar," Nathan commented upon seeing an arrow display. "Minus the mountain lion carcass."

"Doesn't look like anything's missing from this case." Audrey's eyes focused on the perfectly proportioned exhibit. The individual arrows in the case were arranged in such a way to form a larger arrow shape while still maintaining the integrity of the distinct pieces.

The museum curator approached the two. "Good afternoon, officers. Detectives," he corrected himself. "I would say it's good to see you, but you don't look like you're here to enjoy the exhibits, which means one thing. Someone's done something bad again." Hands clasped, he shook his head with exaggerated, feigned solemnity.

Audrey shot a glance at Nathan, who seemed to think nothing of the curator's glib demeanor. Nathan must already know him, she quickly realized. And maybe that was how he always acted. "Audrey Parker," she introduced herself.

"Silas Spahr, museum 'warden' extraordinaire." The curator made air quotes to accompany the self-description of _warden_. "But I already know who you are. Everyone does."

"Then I guess I'm late to my own party," Audrey muttered.

Silas looked to Nathan. "I would ask how you've been, but that sling tells me what I need to know."

"I'd be doing a lot better if you could help us with something."

With a bat of his eyelashes, Silas asked, "What can I do for you, Nathan?"

* * *

When they left the museum, Audrey looked up at Nathan with a glint in her eye. "You've got quite a fan in there. Between Silas Spahr and Mary Regan, I'm not sure who was more obvious."

Nathan chose his words carefully. "He was…helpful."

"Right. Helpful." Audrey had to force herself to let it go, but it was difficult. She could have so much fun at Nathan's expense if left to her own devices. "So all the arrows are accounted for, between the display and what's in storage."

"Assuming the arrow was authentic, it must have come from a private collection. Wonder who has the resources." Nathan's dry tone left little doubt as to his theory of the arrow's origin.

"I know where you're going with this, but what motive would Ephraim Brand or a designee have to kill the mountain lion with a very old Mi'kmaq arrow?"

"To draw you to the estate."

Audrey shot him an incredulous look. "What makes you think any of this is about me?"

"He called you specifically," Nathan pointed out.

"But he could've just asked me to come over for coffee. Or tea. Or whatever. Wouldn't have required mountain lions or arrows." The two reached her sedan, and she clicked the keyless entry.

"Would be a lot less trouble," Nathan conceded. "And less paperwork for us." He settled back against the seat. He couldn't feel the material or even the lack of space, but he missed the Bronco nevertheless. There was something to be said about being in control of his own destiny and something comfortable about being surrounded by the familiarity of the old truck. At least if he was focused on a task—like driving—he wouldn't be so focused on her.

Nathan ventured a glance at Audrey, who now stared fixedly out the windshield. And he found the glance becoming more of a stare. She was…_stunning_. Her peaches and cream complexion was more perfect than the strokes from an artist's paintbrush could create. Even with her hair pulled back in a bumpy ponytail she was breathtaking.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to look anywhere else but Audrey. Nathan understood all too well the appeal she had to Brand and other men, Duke included. He wasn't going to stand in her way if she wanted to pursue relationships outside of work. She deserved happiness; God knows she'd put her own happiness on hold for long enough. And one of these days, there would be someone else in the picture for her.

"We're overlooking the obvious. The Brand estate is simply haunted," Audrey murmured, oblivious to the tumult of thoughts running through Nathan's mind.

He looked at her again. She was being facetious. He recognized the crinkle in her forehead, the slightest smirk of her lips, so perfectly shaped, rosebud in color.

The cab of the sedan suddenly seemed simultaneously too small and not small enough, not intimate enough.

His eyes went to the shirt he wore. He couldn't see the bandages beneath but knew they were there and that beneath the bandages were the telltale marks Audrey saw in her vision.

_And they were lovers._

He'd be lying if he said the thought didn't intrigue him, give him a hope he couldn't entirely quiet. He wanted to feel again. That wasn't a state secret. But that unspoken yearning—that desire he had for _her_—wasn't solely about the physical. She knew him better than anyone, and he knew her; their connection was visceral. So to have it be _Audrey's_ softness and warmth beneath him, surrounding him…

The very thought of a vision he'd never even seen—only imagined—was enough to drive him to distraction.

But what was he supposed to do about it? He respected her. The last thing he wanted to do was prey on her sympathies. They were partners, and any other type of entanglement would only serve to complicate everything. Could he do his job when all he would worry about was her? As it was, he was worried enough, and they'd never even kissed, other than a kiss on the cheek that meant the world to him and was probably a throwaway moment for her.

But lately, he had sensed a shift. They were partners, yes, but it was beginning to go beyond that. There was a new intimacy between them, as well as awareness. He noticed her blush when she'd seen him shirtless. Hell, he'd seen her flustered more often in the last week than in the whole time he'd known her.

What did he have to offer her, though? At the end of her journey, when she had her answers and the Troubles seeped back into obscurity, he couldn't envision Audrey settling for a life of domesticity. From all of their talks, he knew that was never something she wanted. She deserved someone who could give her the world.

Nathan just hoped it wouldn't be Ephraim Brand.

Lately it all seemed to come back to Brand. Was he grasping at straws? Had he lost his objectivity? Logically speaking, if Ephraim Brand did have something to do with the mountain lion, why would he put himself under further scrutiny?

Maybe it was childhood fear reasserting itself—not that he would admit that to his partner. The estate had a history of strange occurrences, and this was just one in a long line.

Maybe it was someone's trouble. All of it. The bleeding trees. The out-of-place mountain lion. The sickening sweetness of the air. The arrow. But what was the connection, and what was the trigger? "Maybe you weren't far off when you joked about the Brand Estate being haunted."

Audrey gaped at her passenger. "So now you believe in ghosts? _You_?"

"We've both seen enough to know that not everything's cut and dry. I wouldn't go so far as to call it ghosts…." His voice trailed off.

"But?"

"That place…it's different."

"The Troubles aren't location-related. They're people related."

"The Troubles have definite rules now?" Nathan jabbed.

"Okay. Point taken. So other than the larger-than-normal house…and the bleeding trees…"

"And the smell," he added.

"What makes it different? I mean, you've been saying that since before all this weirdness happened."

"The land on which the estate is built was once Mi'kmaq."

"I thought Native Americans didn't believe in owning land."

"Beliefs vary from group to group. The people who once lived here considered themselves stewards of the land and moved depending on the season. They used to hunt along the shoreline of what is now the Brand Estate and camped in the woods. Lore has it that the original Ephraim Brand traded with the local tribe, that trade arrangements continued until there was a falling out and Brand claimed this land for himself. With the help of several townspeople, he asserted that claim. Murdered those encamped in the woods who refused to leave."

"That's harsh."

"Brand's fortune was built on the backs of the Mi'kmaq until he didn't need them anymore."

"Okay, but as for the Ephraim Brand who is now living there, this has nothing to do with him."

"You sure of that? The past has a way of coming back."

"So where did the arrow came from? The past?" Her tone was incredulous.

"There's no evidence of it," Nathan conceded. "There's no direct evidence of anything illegal related to Ephraim Brand, for that matter. Only stories. Coincidences. But where there's smoke…"

"There's fire," Audrey finished.

"Brand's not what he seems."

"You just described half the guys I ever dated. But I agree. There's more than meets the eye." She sighed. "This arrow thing bugs the hell out of me. Why shoot the mountain lion with an old arrow? Why not a firearm of some kind?"

"A message? Something we're missing?"

"Yeah, that doesn't sit well with me." She stifled a yawn.

Nathan watched her from the corner of his eye, noting her fatigue. With everything she had going on and the lack of sleep, it was a wonder she was still functioning. "The game wardens will have the arrow analyzed for DNA samples."

"So how's your inter-agency rapport?"

"Probably better than yours," Nathan replied with the slightest quirk of his lips.

"On a completely different note, do you feel like a detour? I'd like to head over to the _Herald_. See what I can dig up on Walt Yeater."

Nathan hesitated. He had to admit he was curious. Since Audrey had shared the contents of Eleanor Carr's journal the night before, he had found himself thinking back to Yeater's odd death from some twenty-seven years before. His gut told him that somehow the Brands were involved, and he wanted to see that through. "You mean to see how his death was spun in the newspaper."

"It's not every day a man dies from an apple seed overdose. And last time I was there, Vince had a particular aversion to apples."

"Doesn't Ephraim Brand have a certain…liking…for apples?"

"So do you. So do I. But this you can't pin on Brand. What happened with Yeater was twenty-seven years ago. Do you really think Ephraim Brand has been poisoning people with apples since the time he was a little boy? Throw in some dwarves, a magic mirror, and we've got a fairy tale."

Nathan shook his head. "This is Haven. Anything's possible."

"But I'm not going there until we've ruled out the most probable."

Nathan made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a chortle.

"What?"

"Just wondering when I became the believer and you the skeptic."

* * *

Vince straightened his posture when he heard the jingling of the bells on the exterior door of the newspaper office. "Nathan. Audrey. What brings you by?" He focused on the younger man. "Here to tell about your harrowing experience with nature?"

"Research, actually," Nathan supplied.

Audrey added, "We were hoping to look at the _Herald_'s archives from around early October of '83."

"That's been a popular year for you lately," Vince commented.

"Evidently a lot happened back then." Audrey watched to see if Vince would react, but he remained impassive.

"Maybe while you're here, you'd like to give an interview about your attack. It's not everyday a man gets attacked by a … mountain lion, was it?"

Nathan shrugged slightly. "Not much to say other than the obvious. Mountain lions have sharp claws."

Vince grimaced at the thought.

Within a few minutes, the newspaperman had Nathan and Audrey set up on a rather archaic desktop computer that—after being struck on the side in just the right spot—finally chugged to life.

"I keep telling Dave we need a new one," Vince grumbled apologetically.

Audrey sat in a scarred wooden chair and typed in search parameters. Nathan stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder to see the screen.

"Look's like this might be it," she told Nathan when the computer search system returned links to archived articles.

They began to read.

HAVEN - A Haven man was struck fatally ill in a case of food poisoning. Walter Yeater, age 42, of Bethel Road died at the Haven Hospital yesterday afternoon. According to police reports, Yeater was found in his home by his eight-year-old son, suffering from a convulsive seizure. It is believed the seizure was related to the food poisoning.

The child called 911 in an attempt to get assistance for his father. "It's tough," said Officer Garland Wuornos, who arrived on the scene and investigated. "You don't ever want children to go through what this little boy did. But as far as we can tell, this is not a public health threat."

An obituary is published elsewhere in today's _Haven Herald_.

"Food poisoning?" Audrey questioned.

"Not exactly a lie, is it?" Nathan replied.

With a few clicks, Audrey brought up Walt Yeater's obituary.

HAVEN - Funeral services for Walter Dennis Yeater, 42, of Haven, will be held at 2 p.m. on Thursday, October 6, in the chapel of Haven Funeral Home. Interment will be in Seaside Cemetery.

The family will receive friends from 10 a.m. until time of services at the funeral home.

Mr. Yeater passed away on Sunday, October 2, 1983, at Haven Hospital.

He was born June 13, 1941, to the late Jimmy Lee Yeater and Olivia Dennis Yeater-Harrington, formerly of Hancock County.

Mr. Yeater loved to watch his son play little league baseball, go to yard sales, and to have good conversations. No matter where he went, he never met a stranger.

His family includes his wife of eleven years, Marie; one son, Mikey; his mother and step-father, Olivia Yeater-Harrington and Michael Harrington; and a sister, Sally Harrington, all of Haven.

In addition to his father, he was preceded in death by an uncle, Frankland Dennis.

Pallbearers will be family and friends.

Rev. Edmund Driscoll will officiate at the services.

"The scuttlebutt is when Eleanor Carr pumped his stomach, she found copious amounts of apple seeds," Vince contributed from across the room at his desk.

"How did you know…?"

"Early October of 1983. What else could it be?" Vince replied.

"Did you know Walt Yeager?" Audrey asked.

Vince hesitated ever so slightly. "In passing."

"What do you think would make a man literally eat himself to death?" Nathan asked.

Vince straightened his cardigan. "Must've been … a mental illness."

"What did Yeater do for a living?" Without conscious thought, Audrey tapped her fingers on the small wood desk supporting the computer.

Vince's brows furrowed. "If memory serves me correctly, he was an actuary."

"That's ironic," Nathan commented.

"With everything going on, Dave was looking into setting up a life insurance policy."

Audrey scanned back through the article. "Harrington," she spotted. "That name's familiar."

"You just met her a few hours ago," Nathan provided.

"Sally's the only Harrington left in this area. She's the housekeeper at the Brand Estate. Has been for a long time," Vince explained.

Audrey's eyes widened. _There's a connection._

But what did it all mean?

"Did you know an Ephraim Brand around that time?" Nathan asked Vince.

Vince cleared his throat. "Can't say that I did."

* * *

"He was lying," Nathan pronounced upon leaving the _Haven Herald_'s offices.

Audrey nodded in agreement. "My head is spinning right now. It seems like everything we find out just leaves us with more questions than answers." She tried to suppress a yawn, but one managed to find its way through her defenses. "I just don't know why everything has to be such a huge secret all the time."

"Town pastime." As they approached Audrey's car once again, Nathan asked, "You think you can give me a lift home? Day's catching up with me."

"I—sure," Audrey was momentarily taken aback by his sudden request. "With the day you had yesterday, I'm surprised you lasted this long."

The drive to Nathan's bungalow took less than ten minutes. Audrey pulled her sedan behind Nathan's Bronco, shifted the gear to park, but left the engine running.

"You coming in?" Nathan asked.

"You offering coffee?" she replied.

"Can be arranged."

With that, she shut off the ignition and followed him inside.

By his estimation, she'd already had about five cups that he'd witnessed. Maybe decaf was the way to go.

"I can make—," she began to head toward the kitchen with him, still protective of him exerting himself too much.

"I've got this," he assured her.

She didn't have the energy to argue. She sank onto the couch, cell phone in hand, searching through her contact list for the Bangor crime lab's number. She was probably going to piss them off, calling again to ask if they'd found the sample Nathan had taken from the trees, but she wasn't about to let them off the hook either.

Haven had seen its share of weird, but bleeding trees took first prize. And if Nathan was right and the mountain lion's blood sample matched the trees? What would it all mean? And why the Brand Estate?

She leaned her head back against the sofa. It was comfortable. Too bad Nathan couldn't...

_She looked to him, felt that pull as she always did, and tried to choke it off. She wanted him as far away as possible. God, she wanted him to be safe. And she needed him by her side. And all at once she was reminded of how needs and wants were two completely different beasts._

_The ground shook beneath her feet, and she nearly took a dive to the pavement. A crimson liquid began to burble from the storm drain nearest her, spilling out onto the sidewalk. _

"_It's starting."_

"_I was hoping you were wrong about this." He wasn't panicked. He was steady, calm, and his voice hinted at the wryness she loved about him._

"_And I was hoping I was crazy."_

_The liquid—blood if she had to guess, though this had to be impossible—began to stream from each metal grate, spilling out onto the street. It pooled in low areas until enough collected that it began to run._

"Parker?"

Audrey jerked awake, the vestiges of her dream still trailing the corners of her consciousness. _Blood running in the street._

Blood.

It came back to the blood.

She squinted. Where was she? Oh, yes. Nathan's couch. Her cell phone was still in her hand, and her partner was standing over her, a cup of coffee in hand. For her, she presumed.

"Sorry. I should've let you sleep," Nathan apologized.

"No, I should get back to the station. I hear paperwork calling my name. And I want to look into Walt Yeater's death more."

"If you're hearing things, it's because you need sleep." He set the coffee on the end table and himself on coffee table facing her.

"This is rich," she said dryly. "You're the one who overdid it today and _I'm_ getting lectured?"

"You're about three yawns from a—"

She interrupted, "I'll sleep when I'm—"

He stopped her before she had the chance to add 'dead.' "I know, but if you don't take care of yourself, how effective are you going to be? You already put in more hours than you should. Even when you aren't working, you're working."

"Nathan."

"Just rest an hour. Then if you want to go back to the station, I won't argue."

She reached for the cup of coffee. "A little caffeine, and I'll be fine."

"It's decaf," he admitted.

"You steered me here," she realized. They'd come for her benefit, not his.

"You drove," he replied with a hint of a smile.

But her mind was already reaching to recollect the details of the dream. Each time she'd experienced it, it came as a flash. An impression. But now she was seeing specifics. "I saw blood," she said abruptly.

Nathan frowned. "Been a lot of that going on around here lately."

"No, I mean when I was asleep, I saw blood. Running down the street."

"The vision again?"

She nodded. "I was thinking about the trees and the lion and if they're connected to each other and—"

"Do they connect to your vision?"

"I don't know. Is it even real?"

Nathan looked down at his shoulder. "Starting to seem pretty damn real to me."

"But what's going on at the Brand estate isn't necessarily connected to what I saw in the dream. Vision. Hallucination." She swallowed hard. "I think I'm losing my mind."

"You're not." She looked at him doubtfully. "You're not," he repeated more adamantly. "We've just got to keep digging. If these things you saw are your life—past…future—then maybe there's something we can do to prevent these terrible things from happening."

And for a brief moment she could feel him, though they weren't touching, feel the echoes of his touches. His fingers skimming the contours of her hips. His heart pounding against her back. The coarseness of his stubbled cheek against her smooth one.

"They aren't all terrible."

From the look he gave her, she wondered if he could read her mind, if he knew how often her thoughts came back to him.

"No, I guess not."

"An hour. You'll wake me?"

"Will do." He stood, and she set her coffee cup on the coaster before sliding off her boots and stretching out on the couch. Her eyes were closed when she felt a blanket being spread over her.

* * *

Sally Harrington had never been inside the Haven Police Department. Certainly, she had seen the brick and stone façade. When she was a schoolgirl, she used to walk past the building on her way to school, though always on the other side of the road. Even all these years later, she could practically hear her mother's admonitions, word-for-word. "Don't break our hearts. Be good like your brother." She'd always had the sense that if she stepped one foot nearer to the building, trouble would find her.

Now she wondered if she was actively seeking trouble.

Walking into the building, she tried to find the confidence that Mr. Brand seemed to have in her. His request made her uneasy, but the warmth that flooded from him compelled her to rethink her reticence. It was the most natural request in the world. She could and would do this for him.

"May I help you, ma'am?" The uniformed officer looked to be in his late thirties. Younger than herself. Young enough to refer to her as ma'am. Old enough that it peeved her. Had so many years really gone by?

"Yes. I need to see Chief Wuornos."

"Is he expecting you?"

"No, but this matter is one he'll want to discuss with me."

The officer regarded her apologetically. "Without an appointment, it will be difficult to see the chief. Perhaps there's something I can do to assist you."

"Actually, there is. Please let him know Sally Harrington is here to see him regarding Ephraim Brand."

"Ms. Harrington, I don't think-"

The look of apprehension on the officer's face did not surprise Sally. Despite her lack of consistent interaction with the town, she had known Garland Wuornos long enough to know his reputation for being hard-nosed and gruff. She'd seen that side of him herself all those years ago—when the Troubles were in full swing and took her brother, so unexpectedly, so unusually.

She wondered if he thought about her brother anymore. Wuornos had been the beat cop who had arrived on the scene—even before paramedics—when Walter had been found dead. Sally hadn't been there herself, but the thought of it still made her stomach knot. Her nephew had been the one to make the discovery.

She tried to shake herself from those thoughts. The matter at hand was far more important than an excursion into despair. _Ephraim_ was more important. "I know a bit about demanding bosses. Trust me. He will be more upset if you don't interrupt whatever he's doing to let him know I'm here."

"Wait here."

Within a few minutes, Sally found herself in the police chief's office.

"It's been a lot of years," Garland said when Sally entered his office. He rose from his chair and extended his hand.

She took it, politely shaking his hand before breaking contact. Garland Wuornos did not have the presence of Ephraim Brand, she quietly and pridefully decided. "It has. Do you remember the last time we spoke?"

"Your brother's funeral."

"You pulled me aside and warned me against working at the Brand Estate."

"Guess the warning didn't take." His gravelly voice did not have the acerbic edge she had seen him take with others. Rather he seemed almost amused in spite of himself. It was not what she'd expected.

"Not quite," Sally replied, a bit of humor tingeing her tone. "Next May will mark twenty-nine years at the manor. Of course, the place has been more of a museum of antiquities than a home in many years, but recently Mr. Brand's son appeared. It's becoming quite … alive again."

Garland merely grunted in reply.

"Alive in ways that I would not have thought. I heard your son was injured on the estate, and there have been some other peculiarities. The," she shook her head slightly in disbelief, "bleeding trees. The return of Lucy Ripley. Un-aged. We should all be so fortunate." Without conscious thought, she touched her gray-streaked hair. The last time she had seem Lucy Ripley, Sally had been young and vibrant, and her appearance reflected that. Now….

She watched for a reaction from the chief, but to his credit, he remained expressionless.

"There is a passing resemblance between Officer Parker and Lucy Ripley, but that is where the similarities end. What does this have to do with Mr. Brand?"

"We know what Lucy Ripley was to the elder Mr. Brand. And you remember the damage."

"You come to tell me this?"

"His son is interesting himself with Officer Parker. The impression I have is the sentiment is mutual." She paused, waiting for a response from Garland. When there was none, she continued. "Contrary to what you say, keep in mind that I lived under the same roof with Lucy for quite some time. I knew her well. The way she walked. The cadence of her speech. Her features. The resemblance between Lucy and Officer Parker is more than passing."

"Twenty-seven years is a long time. Perhaps you're mistaken."

"Unlike everyone else around here who can't seem to remember the Troubles, they're etched in my mind. _She_ is etched in my mind."

"I'm confused as to why you're here. What do you want me to do about it? Can't exactly force the woman to change her appearance."

"I think Lucy Ripley killed my brother," Sally blurted.

* * *

To be continued...


	19. Point of No Return

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

******Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the lovely reviews of the previous chapter! This chapter has something many of you have been awaiting. I hope it doesn't disappoint! :)

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: "Point of No Return"**

Garland Wuornos leaned forward in his seat, his cool blue eyes studying Sally Harrington, his tone incredulous. "You honestly think Lucy Ripley had something to do with your brother's death?"

"She's not natural."

"You're aware of the coroner's findings," he reminded the woman who sat across from him. "There's nothing to substantiate your claim, Ms. Harrington."

Sally took a deep breath. "I understand you have an interest in protecting the reputation of your department. But what man ingests apple after apple, seed and all? He was compelled. Poisoned. Who else but her?"

"There's no motive," the Chief pointed out. "Let me be blunt with you. Walt was likely troubled."

"The Troubles," Sally practically chewed on the word, using the term almost as a curse. "And who brings the Troubles, Chief Wuornos? You always did have a soft spot for Lucy. Mr. Brand knew it. Your wife knew it. Of course, considering what happened to your wife, I would think you would be interested in justice if not for my brother, then for her."

Realization set in for Garland. Part of him wanted to rail at the woman who sat across from him. She had what the old-timers called a poisoned tongue. But she also knew more than anyone could. No, something wasn't right here.

He kept himself in check. "Brand sent you."

"I'm here of my own accord."

"You're his pawn. Stay away from my officer. She isn't Lucy Ripley, any more than you or I are."

"Does your son know what she is?"

* * *

"I did it," Sally Harrington said after sliding into the back of Ephraim Brand's chauffeured vehicle.

"How did Wuornos react?"

"He denied Lucy's involvement with Walt's death." The vehicle began to move, and Sally was again struck by her position. Years ago, she would have given anything to be next to Ephraim Brand in his car.

How cruel that the son so closely resembled his father. She was struck by the younger man's attractiveness that went beyond what the eye could see to a magnetism that simply _was_. Yes, he was so like his father, and she—well, she had spent what was left of her youth in his service.

"As expected," Ephraim responded. "I can't imagine that he would be agreeable to such a suggestion."

"He did not seem to become angry. Even when I mentioned his wife."

"Have you ever played poker, Sally?"

"No, sir."

"I suspect Garland Wuornos had a far greater reaction than he showed you. Nevertheless, the seeds were planted." He leaned toward the older woman, stroking her hand. "You did beautifully." As he looked out the window of the car, he spotted a police barrier blocking the roadway.

"Looks as though the road has a break in it, Mr. Brand," the driver said lowering the partition. "We will have to take an alternate route."

Brand looked back to Sally. "It's a shame about the road. I hate to see things falling apart after what this town has meant to my family for so many years." But his tone was triumphant.

Sally did not notice the crack in the road, though. For as she looked at the hand Ephraim had touched, she was stunned by its appearance. Her skin was smooth, moist, supple. It looked young.

She looked up at Ephraim, trying to form words, but was rendered speechless.

Looking straight ahead in the car, Brand responded, "You're welcome."

* * *

Nathan's living room was mostly dark when Audrey awoke; the only light spilled from the streetlights outside and the kitchen.

"An hour my ass," she muttered. What time was it anyway? She felt for her cell phone, pressed the home button, and saw the time illuminated. 6:45. A.M. or P.M.?

Still barefoot, she padded into the kitchen and saw Nathan, without his sling, pulling ingredients from the cabinets.

"You in the mood for pancakes?"

"That depends on whether you're making dinner or breakfast." Her tone was cross as she folded her arms over her chest.

"It's always the right time for pancakes," he replied ignoring her grouchiness.

She looked at his microwave. 6:46 P.M. She'd slept so hard, she hadn't been sure. "Did you forget how to tell time? I thought you were going to wake me after an hour."

"Thought about it, but you were snoring so peacefully. Didn't have the heart to wake you."

"I was not snoring."

"And you know this because…?"

"I don't snore."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Right. If you say so."

She tilted her head. "So what's the deal with ditching the sling?"

"I'm fine without it, Parker."

"Wow. You're not even pretending to humor me anymore."

"No point when you don't have much of a sense of humor tonight. Woke up on the wrong side of the couch."

"I _have _a sense of humor. It's just…hibernating." She broke out into a wry smile. "Do I really snore?"

He shrugged. "Softly. Wouldn't be enough to keep me awake."

Her eyebrows rose at that. "Down, boy. Skipping a few steps there. You should ask a girl out first." Her tone was teasing. Oh, yes, she had a sense of humor all right.

His whisk clanged against the side of the bowl. "That didn't—I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I don't assume that you and I will be sharing a bed or—after this conversation—even a plate of pancakes."

"You should." Her words hung in the air, and it was her turn to shake her head ruefully. "The pancakes at least. I'm hungry. As for the other-"

"We've got reservations for the day after tomorrow."

Her face suddenly felt very warm. How exactly was she supposed to feel about this? There had been an underlying attraction between them, strumming its way into her core for longer than she cared to admit. But they had never even kissed, let alone worked their way toward _that_.

"Reservations? You didn't waste time."

"A flight into Dayton, Ohio," he clarified. "We're going to get those answers."

Audrey exhaled loudly. Her first thought was gratitude that Nathan didn't have a mind-reading Trouble. That would have been embarrassing. "You think it's a good idea to just pack up and leave? What if something happens and we're not here?"

"Someone else will figure it out. Or we'll come back."

"You said 'we'."

"I'm going with you. I mean, if you don't mind the—"

He didn't even fully have out his statement before she quickly interrupted with, "I don't mind. Of course, the office pool will be going into overdrive."

"Yeah, I thought of that. As far as everyone's concerned, I'm going to be recuperating," he looked down at his shoulder. "And you'll be out of town on a personal matter."

Audrey leaned against the counter. She wasn't accustomed to this. Having someone look after her, someone push her toward her past. A year ago, she would've balked at the idea of essentially giving up total control over her life. She liked being a lone wolf. But she was starting to realize something. Having Nathan with her—as her partner, as her friend—was so much better than being alone.

"I can't believe we're doing this. To be honest with you, I never thought I'd go back."

"It'll be…interesting…to see your hometown." He poured more flour into the bowl, trying to get his mixture to the right consistency.

"Hometown," Audrey echoed. "It feels so removed. I've been back once since high school, and it didn't go so well for me."

"Why not?"

"You know I asked the sisters at St. Mary's to release my information."

"And they wouldn't."

"That's not the only thing that happened."

He waited expectantly, but she suddenly, inexplicably clammed up. "This would be the part where you elaborate."

She groaned. "Not really worth mentioning."

"But you did."

"Then consider it unmentioned…?" A gentle plea.

"For now." Oh, there was definitely a story there. Another time, he would get her to spill.

"What can I do to help with dinner?"

"I've got this," he assured her as he pulled out a griddle from under the cabinet and set it on the stovetop.

"I can't believe you're doing this for me."

He shrugged it off. "Just pancakes, Parker."

"That's not what I meant. Though I'm sure the pancakes will be good."

"They'll be damn good."

"That's a lot to live up to," she replied with a hint of a challenge in her tone.

"I've spent years perfecting them."

"Fair enough. Listen, I'm sorry I was being difficult earlier. You've been a really good friend to me. Better than I deserve."

He stopped and looked at her. For as solitary of a life as he had led over the last couple of years, Audrey basically had no one her whole life. It struck him as odd and tragic both. She was…extraordinary. "Always will be. No matter what we find in Ohio or what we find here."

"Nathan—" She broke off. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but she didn't know how to form the words or even if she should.

"Parker?"

"You've got a little bit of flour in your hair." It was a cop out, to be certain, though not untrue. There was something very attractive about a man who knew his way around a kitchen.

Nathan reached up to wipe it away, only to smear more of the powder on himself.

She laughed as she closed the distance between them, pushed aside his hand, and said, "Let me." Wordlessly, she steered him to the bar stool and sat him down. Standing between his thighs, she reached up and gently brushed the flour from his hair with her fingers.

He wondered what expression must've been on his face because she shook her head slightly and apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm being pushy."

Nathan wanted to tell her that as long as she kept touching him, she could push him anywhere she wanted him to go. Instead he barely managed to utter her name. "Audrey." His voice came out low, gravelly.

And then it hit her. It was the contact that had him wound up. She pulled away. "I shouldn't have…"

"Dammit, Parker."

"What do you want from me, Nathan?" It was a simple question, but her voice was thick with emotion, thick with fatigue.

"Nothing. Everything." He looked up at the ceiling, attempting to get his bearings. "I…I shouldn't-" His fists were clenched without him even realizing it. Why did he do this? Why did he come apart at the seams from her touches? If anything would ever creep Audrey out, this would be it. This was his issue—not hers, but it had to make her uncomfortable.

But Audrey pressed her hands against his cheeks, directing him to meet her eyes. And finally she saw it. The longing. The turmoil. Raw. Powerful. _Barely contained_. Her breath caught within her. Why had she never seen it before? Why had she never seen _him_ before, truly seen him?

A lump formed in her throat. He wanted her. She wanted him. If they went _there_, that was it. They would cross the line from partners to lovers, the point of no return.

Her track record with relationships was pretty shoddy. She didn't know how to do the relationship thing, not in the least.

But then it hit her. She didn't want to go back to being Nathan's acquaintance, just his friend, just his co-worker. Nathan Wuornos was unlike any other man she'd ever known. And she wanted to know everything about him.

_Everything._

Wordlessly, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his ever so lightly, a gentle, tentative exploration. She didn't want to overwhelm him, to ask too much. Her movements were languid, tender even, as she trailed light kisses along the corner of his mouth, across his jaw line.

When they separated, it was slowly, with Audrey studying Nathan, waiting for him to open his eyes. He looked dazed momentarily before his lips curled into a smile. Audrey couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a heady sense of power from the awareness that she had induced his mystified expression.

"Okay?" Audrey murmured.

"More than okay," Nathan countered, though he found it impossible to fully process what was happening. Any coherent thoughts were smothered by the ghosts of her touches. Sensations. Softness. Warmth. Magnetism. She tasted like vanilla and something that was indescribably Audrey, delectable, perfect.

Without another word, he reached for her.

They kissed leisurely, Nathan burying his hands in her hair. She pushed against him, opening her mouth slightly, but he didn't deepen their kiss—not yet—content for the moment to simply feel her lips against his, to memorize her texture, her taste.

His kisses were unpracticed, arguably clumsy, but the way Audrey sighed against him made him feel like he was awakening from a long slumber. Feeling emboldened, Nathan sucked at her lower lip, requesting entrance.

Audrey was more than happy to grant his request. Her hands found their way around to his waist as she clung to him, her body pressed against his. Truthfully, she wasn't sure how much of her Nathan could feel, but she sure could feel him. Hard muscles. Deliciously male.

She had been determined to let him feel his way to her. No longer. Her tongue rubbed against his, slowly at first, then more boldly.

Nathan pulled her even closer, cupping his hands behind her neck and angling her head to one side so that his tongue could make a deeper penetration. His mouth slanted over hers, tasting her, teasing her.

He never wanted to stop.

Audrey felt warm, feverish, all over. She couldn't believe how quickly her desire for him seemed to pool within her, clinging to her every fiber. So much for having power over him. If anything, he had power over her.

Dipping under the hem of his shirt, she scratched her nails up his back. Touching him—truly touching _him_—was what she'd wanted to do since she'd seen him earlier, clad in nothing but a towel. She could feel the muscles in his back tighten in reaction to her touch.

Nathan practically growled against her mouth, as he stood from the stool, whirled her around, and pushed her against the countertop. She was trapped and welcomed it. Their legs tangled with one another, and instinctually she arched her hips against him, wanting…_needing_…something more.

Her elbow hit a bottle of rubbing alcohol, eliciting a light chuckle from her.

Nathan broke their kiss and leaned down, his forehead against hers. His breathing was shallow, quick. "That was…"

"Unexpected," she finished.

"I've been wanting to do that a long time," he admitted.

She felt herself relax in his arms. "I've thought about it, too."

"I…figured," he confessed. "The visions were a good clue."

The visions. _Nathan as her lover_. Being close to him—feeling his breath against her skin, the warmth of him, how already she ached for him—those flashes of events seemed all the more possible. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you," she chided herself with a smile.

"I'd say you're doing an admirable job."

"Right. So admirable that I've made you start bleeding again," she grimaced. "We weren't being very careful."

"Somehow it doesn't seem that important," he admitted looking down at the dark stain on his shirt.

"It _is_ important." She gently pushed against him, extricating herself from his hold. "I need to tend to this. Dr. Pennycuff warned you to keep that arm still, that it would pull the wounds open again."

"Julia warned me not to strain myself, too."

"Yeah, well, I've been a bad influence."

"Well worth it."

"And you should be wearing your sling," she gently fussed at him.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted what Audrey was sure would be a protest from him.

"Are you expecting company?" she asked.

"No."

* * *

Nathan left the kitchen and walked to the front door. He was surprised to see his dad standing on the front porch. When he opened the door, he could smell the distinct scent of cigarette smoke. The old man had been at it again. So much for the nicotine gum.

"Chief. Dad," he corrected.

Garland Wuornos walked into the house. "We need to talk." No pleasantries, not that Nathan expected any. It wasn't his father's m.o.

When he saw Audrey emerge from the kitchen, he added flatly. "You're here, too. Good." He looked back to Nathan. "You're bleeding."

"I was just about to change the bandage," Audrey explained. "_Someone_ doesn't know how to take it easy or wear a sling, apparently. Maybe you can do something about him."

"He doesn't listen to me," Garland replied, his voice gruff.

"'He' is standing right here," Nathan interjected. "You didn't come here to play father-of-the-year. What's going on?"

The older Wuornos brushed off the rancor in his son's voice. "Wanted to follow up on the Brand case with you."

"It couldn't have waited?"

"Why don't we go into the kitchen?" Audrey suggested, trying to diffuse the tension. "We can get your bandage changed, get dinner going again, and discuss the case."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Garland asked looking at Nathan.

The three went into the kitchen.

"Place looks different," Garland noted as Nathan sat on the bar stool and Audrey began to pull gauze from the first aid kit.

"Renovated the kitchen three…four year ago."

"That long. Hhhm. Saw your report about the dead cat."

"You have questions?" Nathan asked as he started to unbutton his shirt. Audrey pushed his hands aside.

"Be still," she commanded taking over button-duty.

"What do you make of the arrow?" Garland asked watching the partners.

"Seems to be old. Mi'kmaq."

Audrey gently pushed the fabric of Nathan's shirt off his shoulder and peeled the old gauze bandage from the wound.

"But you found no evidence of anyone else on the premises?" Garland continued.

Nathan frowned. "It's all in the report."

"We took a sample of blood from the mountain lion to be cross-checked with the sample from the maple trees," Audrey offered as she pressed a clean bandage onto the three parallel wounds below Nathan's collarbone.

Nathan started slightly as her fingertips made contact with his skin.

The Chief shook his head slightly, as though doing a double take. "What the hell was that?"

"What do you mean?" Nathan asked, his patience wearing thin.

"You felt that."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	20. Existent, Awkward Conversations

**Author's Notes: **I think this was one of those chapters that practically wrote itself and I didn't agonize over it like I typically do everything I write. On the one hand, that's probably a good thing. On the other hand, it's entirely possible that it is utterly wretched. Ha! We'll see which category it falls into.**  
**

Thanks so much to those of you who read and reviewed the previous chapter. I tried to respond to you individually, but for those of you who were not logged in when you reviewed, I could not message you. So please, let me just reiterate my thanks to you all. Your encouragement really does make a difference!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: "Existent, Awkward Conversations"**

"What are you talking about?" Nathan glowered.

"We really gonna do it this way?" Garland questioned, returning his son's glare. "You reacted when Audrey touched you." His gaze fixed on Audrey. "Course you're not surprised by this."

The already frosty temperature between father and son dropped to below freezing in about three seconds flat, Audrey decided as she looked at Nathan then back at the Chief. "I'm not really sure what you want me to say." For that matter, she wasn't sure exactly to whom she directed her comment. Nathan, who seemed to be dead-set on stonewalling his father, or the Chief, who seemed disturbed by the prospect that Nathan could feel her.

Nathan's back went ramrod straight. His voice was low, cold. "Whether I can or can't feel Audrey—I'm not sure why it concerns you."

"I care because you're my son."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the three. Finally, Garland began, "You don't want to say anything because you feel her. But nothing else?"

A strange feeling washed over Audrey, somewhere between shame and confusion. When she found out Nathan could feel her touch, she had been pleased, grateful even, that he was no longer this island unto himself. That he could connect, even if she wished for his sake that he could experience a physical connection with the whole world at all times, not just those few moments of brief contact he had with her.

But for all their talks about what it meant to him, they had not truly questioned why Nathan could feel her, only her. They always seemed to table that discussion in favor of this or that crisis.

Maybe this wasn't about Nathan at all. Maybe it was about her. That she could induce him to feel—a man who hadn't felt anything in two years—revealed something about _her._ Or the fact that she could help to steady James Garrick long enough for him to reconnect with his family. Or that, in general, she seemed unaffected by the Troubles—she didn't die when the chameleon took her form, she could fight against Ezra Colbert's mind reading Trouble…

And for some reason, Audrey felt naked. Exposed. As though somehow Nathan being able to feel her was wrong in Garland Wuornos's eyes.

Why should it matter?

But it did.

"Did you have any more questions about the Brand case, Chief?" Audrey asked Garland trying to redirect the discussion back to a more neutral topic.

"What are you impressions of Ephraim Brand?"

Okay, not so neutral, as far as she and Nathan were concerned. The man had dominated their conversations as of late. Audrey knew Nathan didn't trust him in the least; Audrey did not particularly trust him, either. But with that said, there was something extremely charismatic about the man that was difficult to deny.

"He's certainly confident. He's been helpful but only to a point."

Nathan stared at Audrey, not particularly caring for her assessment of the man. "He's pretentious, untrustworthy, definitely hiding something…"

Garland cleared his throat, which sounded more like a harrumph, as the two partners offered differing perspectives. "I think it's best we let this go for the time being."

Was his dad seriously discounting everything he just told him? "But Chief, there are so many threads that lead to him."

"Anything criminal you can pin on him?"

"Not yet," Nathan conceded.

"Then stop wasting your time."

Nathan looked to Audrey to see if she would tell the chief about the connection they were beginning to form between Ephraim Brand and the death of Walt Yeater, but the thin line of her lips said it all.

"I'm going to head out," Audrey interjected.

Nathan's voice dropped as he spoke with Audrey, though his dad must have heard everything, as well. "Thought you would stay and have dinner." A subtle plea. It was a tone he reserved for only her.

But Audrey needed distance. "I'm not—I'm not in the mood for pancakes right now." She didn't acknowledge it, but Nathan could see the turmoil brewing beneath Audrey's cool exterior. "Keep the sling on. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

Nathan watched as Audrey nodded slightly at his dad and then left the kitchen. A moment later, he heard the front door close.

"Didn't mean to chase her away, but maybe it's for the best. Gives us a chance to talk without an audience."

"Fine. Why'd you call us off the Brand case?"

"Told you. Don't want you wasting your time. Besides, Audrey doesn't seem to think there's anything to him."

"The man's goddamn maple trees were bleeding. His estate had more of those cracks. A mountain lion attacked me on his property when there hasn't been even a sighting in years. Said mountain lion was later found dead with an old Mi'kmaq arrow in it. People are running scared around this Brand guy and—" Nathan broke off his tirade. "You want to leave this alone?"

"What aren't you telling me?" Garland asked, hearing the catch in Nathan's voice.

The visions. Audrey's visions showed Haven's streets flowing with blood, the town crumbling. His instinct told him Brand had something to do with it. Maybe it was just that he didn't like the smell of the place, the saccharine sweetness. Maybe it was that he didn't like the way the man looked at Audrey, a veneer of affability to cover what Nathan was certain was a predatory nature.

Nathan deflected. "You don't think there's something here?"

Garland said nothing as he felt in his pocket for a cigarette.

"You're not smoking that in here."

His dad returned the package to his pocket. Nathan shoved his own hands into his pockets, an old habit. "You put her on the spot, you know."

"And you're pining after her like a dog after a squirrel. Doesn't _that_ put her on the spot? What's going on with you two?"

No apologies. Best way to find out information was to put people on the spot, in Garland's estimation.

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Dad."

"You started it. But fine. Consider this a talk with your boss. If you are having a sexual relationship with your partner, stop. Leads to all types of complications."

"Audrey and I aren't sleeping together."

Nathan would tell him at least this much. He couldn't let Audrey's professional reputation suffer because of him.

"Keep it that way." Garland turned away from his son. He should've known that Nathan would be able to feel Audrey, that he'd grown to care for her. If circumstances were different, he would advise Nathan to grab happiness anywhere he could find it, even if it was with his partner. But things being as they were, Nathan was due for more heartache if this continued. Hadn't his son suffered enough? Hadn't they all? "It's not good for your partnership. It's not good for this town."

Nathan's frown deepened. "What does the town have to do with it?"

"I think we both know that Audrey is…different."

"Now who's being disingenuous?"

"She helps the Troubled. You're Troubled. Don't put her in that position. No use muddying the waters. "

"She's my friend."

"She's more than that. I recognize the look. But she's passing through, Nathan. Don't hang your hopes of normalcy on her."

"What do you know that you aren't saying?"

When Garland didn't reply, Nathan added as he shook his head in disgust. "Right. Everything."

* * *

"Glad you called," Julia Carr said as she slid onto the barstool next to Audrey. "Looks like you got the party started without me." She tilted her head indicating the shrimp cocktail and the empty martini glass in front of her friend.

"We should grab a table," Audrey replied blandly.

"That serious?" Julia asked. She looked at the bartender. "Painkiller, please. On second thought," she added, looking at Audrey, "make that two. They're wicked good."

"I'll send 'em right out," the bartender replied.

Sam? Was that his name? Audrey couldn't entirely recall.

The two friends walked to an empty table. "Duke around tonight? Julia asked.

"Not that I've seen," Audrey replied.

"Too bad. I could use a distraction," Julia said with a sly smile.

"You and Duke? I thought you were still pissed at him after what happened on the _Rouge_ with Ezra and Tobias."

Julia shook her head. "No. Well, maybe a little. It's hard to stay angry with him."

"Nathan has no problem staying angry," Audrey murmured.

"So what's going on with you?"

"What isn't?" Audrey pushed over her shrimp cocktail toward Julia, who took a shrimp and dipped it in sauce. "I have just been through one of the most uncomfortable conversations. Probably ever."

"With Nathan?"

"Nathan and the Chief."

"Garland Wuornos has always intimidated the hell out of me," Julia admitted. "He's very…gruff."

"Gruff, I can handle." It was the secrecy that was setting her on edge.

"Did I ever tell you that he dated my mom for, like, two minutes?"

If Audrey had a drink, she probably would have spewed it all over Julia, who sat across from her. Eleanor Carr and Garland Wuornos? What an odd couple.

"No. You never did mention that."

"It never got serious," Julia added. "But if it had, I can imagine the holiday conversations. The chief with his one syllable responses, barely getting a word in, and my mom talking a mile a minute." She fell quiet, smiling at the thought.

"You miss her."

"Yeah, well, I'd never admit that to her, but I suppose I can admit it to you." Julia shook off the memories. "So, going back to existent awkward conversations instead of imaginary ones, what happened?"

Audrey's volume dropped. "I was tending to Nathan's wounds, and Nathan…reacted."

"Does the Chief know that Nathan can feel you?" Julia asked lowering her voice, as well.

"I'm pretty sure he does now."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No. I don't know. The chief seemed to think it was."

"You'd think he'd be glad that Nathan can feel something."

"I don't think it's about Nathan. I think it's me."

"Audrey, those two have been at odds for as long as I can remember. I'm sure it's not about you."

"Look, I don't think I'm being narcissistic here. There's something about me—about my past—that has Chief Wuornos on edge."

Julia grinned. "Don't tell me that I'm going to be flipping through the channels late at night and see you in a porno."

"The way he's acting, I'd say a porno would be a relief to him."

"You know I haven't said anything to anyone. What I don't get is why is it such a big secret?"

Audrey shrugged. "There are reasons it's probably better for people not to know."

"It certainly ups _your_ weirdness factor," Julia teased, but Audrey couldn't manage even a meager smile in return.

"Two painkillers, ladies." Liz, one of Duke's waitresses set the drinks on their table.

When Liz had gone, Julia took a sip of her drink and sighed contently. Audrey, she noticed, didn't touch hers yet. "So what is it about your past? Is this about your mom? Listen, as someone who is frequently compared to her mother, I can tell you there is nothing more frustrating."

"Yeah, I think it's about Lucy." Audrey did not correct Julia.

"Did you find anything in my mom's journals?"

Audrey weighed how much to tell Julia. "More questions. There were some pages missing."

"Wh-what?" Julia stammered. "That doesn't make any sense! Why would my mom tear pages out of her journal? I mean, there's the obvious—she didn't want someone to see them—but that doesn't seem like her."

"About that. I don't think she's the one who did."

"Audrey, I _wouldn't_."

"I know. Sorry. I wasn't trying to imply you had. It was someone else who had access to them."

"The boxes were sealed. I'd say I was the first person to even go near them in years."

Audrey leaned back in her seat and exhaled loudly. "I feel like I'm in a maze. I know the finish line is out there somewhere, but I just can't get to it."

"Welcome to Haven." Julia raised her glass to Audrey, who reciprocated.

Finally, Audrey took a drink. She tasted the coconut undercurrent of the liquid. What she wouldn't give for an escape to a warm tropical island. "That's really good."

"Yeah, but you'd better take it easy. It's potent."

Audrey smiled slightly, remembering the last time she'd had alcohol. Wine at Nathan's house when he'd made them dinner. He could've drunk her under the table, though she sure wouldn't admit that to him at the time. They sat in his office, making a list of questions she was beginning to wonder if they'd ever be able to answer. Nevertheless, she had felt both tipsy and remarkably content being there with him.

That was the first night she was caught up in the longer glimpse of her vision, the first night being with Nathan seemed real, as opposed to a passing errant curiosity.

The buzzing of her cell phone in her pocket snapped her out it. Audrey pulled it out, looked at the screen, and hit ignore. She took a prolonged suck from her straw.

"Who was it?"

"Nathan."

"So I get that you don't particularly want to talk to Chief Wuornos, but what did Nathan do that has you ignoring his phone calls?" Julia asked.

"I kissed him," Audrey blurted.

"That bastard," Julia deadpanned before breaking out her triumphant, 'I-told-you-so' look. "It's about time! Did I call you two or what?"

"He's my partner…and…it was probably not the best idea."

"So you regret it?"

Audrey shook her head. "No." The alcohol was starting to make her feel more relaxed, and she found herself wanting to share this. "No." Unconsciously, her fingers went to her lips.

"So…how was it?"

"A few days ago, I was manning the kissing booth at the Fun Fest. Really just watching the till until Jennifer Simms got back. I had an argument with Duke about kisses—that one is pretty much like the other."

"You are killing me! Spill it!"

"Okay. Short version. One kiss is not like another."

"Too short," Julia replied, dissatisfied.

Audrey considered her words. "We were in the kitchen. He had flour in his hair, and I reached up to brush it out, and it just happened. Nathan was a little out of practice. So was I, for that matter, but…we just clicked."

"So on a scale of quick peck to foreplay…?"

"It became very heated very quickly. I was left wanting more." _A lot more_, she mentally added. "I think he was, too."

Audrey's phone buzzed. She hit ignore once again and set it on the table.

"Why are you here with me, and why are you ignoring his calls?"

"It's complicated. And I just got a strange…I don't know what to call it…vibe maybe…in that conversation between Nathan and his dad."

"I think you're being ridiculous. You should go to him. Climb him like a tree. _That_ is the cure for all that ails you, my friend. All this talk about why he can feel you…maybe that's why. Maybe you are meant to help him out by riding him until you can't stand up straight anymore."

Audrey was beginning to wonder if it was Julia talking—or the alcohol.

"And is that your professional advice, Dr. Carr?"

Julia hiccupped. "Well…I almost forgot about the whole mountain lion thing. But seriously, if he's on the bottom and doesn't strain himself too much, I think it would be workable. Of course, theoretically Nathan hasn't been intimate with anyone in a long time, so asking him not to strain himself might be—"

"Okay," Audrey interrupted. "Can we maybe just back up out of my nonexistent sex life, please?"

"I'm living too vicariously," Julia half-apologized. "You never did tell me why Nathan had flour in his hair."

"He was making pancakes." Audrey shuffled her feet on the floor. "For us."

"And you're sitting here with me? What is _wrong_ with you?"

"I needed to regroup."

"Well, regroup yourself back over to Nathan's house. Apologize for what I can only guess was running out on him."

"I'm really bad at this," Audrey groaned.

"Yes, you are."

"I just don't know why the chief seemed to act like it was a bad thing for Nathan to be able to feel me."

"Do you think it's a bad thing?" Julia countered.

"No."

"Does Nathan?"

"No."

"Then who cares what Garland Wuornos thinks? You have a chance with someone who makes you happy. You've got to grab happiness where you can get it."

"Is this your new motto?"

But Julia was suddenly very distracted. "Mmm. Hello."

Audrey was taken aback by Julia's reaction until she turned to look at what drew the reaction from her friend.

Ephraim Brand.

He looked somewhat out of place in the informal, jovial atmosphere of the Grey Gull, though he was dressed more casually than she had seen him before, in a white button up shirt, jeans, and boots. The contrast of the white shirt against his tanned skin was attractive, Audrey had to admit, and its tailored fit certainly showcased his physique.

He seemed oblivious to her as he stood at the bar, chatting with the barkeep.

Audrey turned back to Julia. "That's Ephraim Brand."

"I've heard that name. I thought he'd be older," Julia commented, not taking her eyes off him.

"He's his father's namesake." Audrey gripped her drink. "And he's created quite a stir around here."

"I can't imagine why," Julia replied wryly. "Is it just me, or does he just ooze that special something?"

"He oozes something, all right," Audrey replied. "Sounds like a medical condition."

"Well, he's coming over here."

Audrey grimaced, hoping he hadn't heard her commentary.

"What a lovely surprise, Audrey. Seeing you twice in one day." Brand rested his hand on the back of her chair and smiled. "Nicer circumstances this time."

"Mr. Brand," she greeted looking back at him. He gave her a mildly scolding expression. "Ephraim," she corrected. "This is my friend, Dr. Julia Carr."

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr. Julia Carr."

"My friends call me Julia," the brunette replied holding out her hand.

Ephraim took her hand, turned it, and kissed it. Julia shot Audrey a look that silently shouted 'wow!'.

He released her hand. "My friends call me Ephraim. Except for Audrey, here, who keeps slipping into formalities. I'm working on breaking her. Of that habit, that is."

"Perhaps you'd care to join us for a drink," Julia suggested.

"As much as I would love to take you up on your delightful offer, I must decline. I'm expecting someone." His eyes fell on Audrey. Green on blue. "But I do hope to see you again very soon." His hand went to Audrey's chair, and she could feel his fingers graze her back before he walked away.

The room started to spin around her, though she was perfectly still. The cacophony of noises—the music, the laughter, the conversations—all faded.

_And then she was on her back, looking up, his hands beneath her head, his body pressed atop hers, blue sky peeking through an umbrella of trees. _

"_We'll always be connected." His green eyes penetrated her. Sometimes she swore he could look into her very soul._

_She touched his face, caressing it. "Always."_

Audrey jumped slightly, disoriented as she found herself back in the Gull, sitting across from Julia. Her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. It happened again, but this wasn't anything she had seen through Lady Cassandra. How long had she been out of it?

"What the hell?"

"That's what I'm saying. Why is it so hard to meet a nice guy? Some women have all the luck."

What was Julia talking about? She followed her friend's line of sight. And then she saw. Across the Gull sat Ephraim Brand with…

_No way_.

"That's Sally Harrington," Audrey uttered incredulously.

Not that she considered herself a prude in any way, shape, or form, but it struck her as astoundingly implausible that Ephraim Brand had one hand resting on his middle-aged domestic servant's arm, as he leaned forward, and stroked her hair behind her ear with the other hand.

Something knotted within her.

"What are you talking about? That is not Sally Harrington."

"Yes, it is. I met her today at Brand House. Same build. Same gray-streaked hair." The housekeeper's earlier reaction when she and Nathan arrived made her pretty unforgettable.

"Audrey, I know Sally Harrington. She's in her late forties, early fifties by now. The woman with Ephraim Brand is a good twenty, twenty-five years younger than Sally. Not a gray hair in sight." Julia chuckled to herself. "I think we'd better call Nathan to drive you home. Told you painkillers were potent."

The woman with Ephraim Brand looked across the restaurant at Audrey, their eyes meeting.

"Yeah," Audrey agreed, "we should definitely call Nathan."

* * *

To be continued...


	21. Needing Partners

******Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: ** I was so excited to read that _Haven_ has been renewed for season 4. Yes! I'm also thrilled that Nathan and Audrey seem to be getting back on track. It was so painful to watch their friendship-not even the burgeoning romance but their friendship-be so strained.

I have about a million theories as to what is being led up to for the end of the season. Can't wait to see if I'm right.

In the meantime, I should mention that this story is so AU by now it's just ridiculous. Thanks for hanging in there with me as I delve into my own little version of _Haven_.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: "Needing Partners"**

When Nathan entered the Grey Gull, he scanned the crowd for Audrey. He quickly spotted her sitting alone at a table; her blond hair, which was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, provided an easy focus for his eyes in the dim lighting. 'Ambience,' Duke called it. Nathan thought the darkness of the restaurant had more to do with keeping the electric bill down.

And he wasn't quite sure what he was in for. Audrey's body language seemed off. Her posture was tense; her lips were pressed tightly in a frown. This was so different from how she had seemed earlier when they'd kissed.

Nathan still couldn't quite believe it. After so long—what felt like months of circling around one another—she kissed him. And it had been…_everything_. Sweet. Raw. Intense. He had practically drowned in the moment.

At first he thought he had just forgotten what kissing was like, but he had quickly realized that kissing had never been like that. So attuned. Physically, he craved her. Even just remembering it had him wishing it was only the two of them in the room and that the rest of the world would simply melt away.

But it wasn't as simple as that.

She'd walked out on him.

Okay, so it wasn't the kiss that had her walking out on him. Nathan could acknowledge that to himself, which was one point in his favor. It was what happened _after_. He wasn't sure if it was what his dad said or what he, himself, wouldn't say to his dad. He wished he could get inside her head, but that was typical Audrey. She played very close to the vest.

He'd been trying to get in touch with her for the better part of the night, not that he entirely knew what he was going to say to her, just that he knew he needed to say something.

It was only after three unanswered phone calls that she finally returned his calls, only to ask him to come down to the Gull. And fast.

Taking a deep breath, Nathan crossed the restaurant.

"Glad you called me back," he began when he reached her. He thought he saw her sink in her chair slightly. He hadn't meant his words as an indictment. For the first time, he wished his Trouble extended to mind reading. He took the seat opposite her. "About what happened earlier with my dad—"

Audrey shook her head slightly, guilt creeping in as she looked at Nathan. She shouldn't have ignored him. Julia had already given her hell for it, but none of that could compare to how disgusted she was with herself when she saw the agonized look in his eyes. She would make it up to him. She would. But for now she needed her partner.

"I didn't call you to talk about that." Her voice lowered. "Something weird is going on."

"Surprising," he replied flatly. He sought her eyes, and she met his gaze, but she was all business.

"Ephraim Brand was here."

And just like that, Nathan found himself suspicious. "Doesn't seem to be his scene."

"It gets better. He was here with Sally Harrington."

Audrey watched as Nathan took in this information. His surprise played across his features as he shook his head slightly and furrowed his brows.

"His housekeeper? Wouldn't have pegged him as the type to socialize with his employees." Nathan tried to picture the middle-aged woman he had seen earlier, the one who had seemed so skittish when she saw Audrey, with the self-assured, smooth voiced enigmatic scion of the Brand family. It didn't compute. Of course, neither did the fact that Sally was Walt Yeater's sister and yet had devoted her entire adulthood to the Brands.

"I mean, he was _with_ her," Audrey emphasized.

"Odd couple." Nathan leaned back in his seat, studying Audrey. She seemed distracted at best, befuddled at worst. But this had to go beyond seeing Brand with his housekeeper. There was no law against that, even if it somehow seemed contrary to everything he would have expected from the man, particularly in light of how attentive Brand had been where Audrey was concerned.

"That's what I thought."

"They around still?" Nathan gave the establishment a once-over again.

Audrey shook her head. "I saw them leave together."

"They live in the same house," Nathan rationalized.

"It was more than that."

"And this bothers you?"

Audrey didn't have the chance to answer, as Julia approached the partners.

"I see you're wearing your sling like a good boy," Julia murmured with a sly smile. She stood next to the chair Nathan occupied. He quickly rose, relinquishing the chair to the doctor. "And such a gentleman, too."

Audrey continued, "Here's the thing. Julia and I—we didn't see the same thing. She saw Brand's companion as a young woman. Dark haired."

"I think Audrey here has had too much to drink," Julia chimed in as she slid into the vacated chair. "She needs a friend to make sure she gets home safely."

"I've _not_ had too much to drink," Audrey objected.

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "So…."

"We're having a disagreement about the identity of the woman," Julia offered. "Audrey thinks it was Sally Harrington. I say the woman was far too young."

"Are you both drunk?" he asked.

"I'm serious, Nathan. Something strange is going on here."

"We've been told to let this Brand thing go," Nathan reminded Audrey.

"Since when do you listen to the Chief?" Audrey asked sharply. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, or counterintuitive, or…something…but Brand was here cozying up to his housekeeper."

"So you recognized her as Sally Harrington," Nathan reiterated. He turned to Julia. "Did you know the woman?"

"No," Julia replied nonchalantly, her coolness in direct contrast with Audrey's demeanor, "but I've mostly been gone for years."

Audrey tapped her fingers on the table. "She gave me a look."

"A look?" Nathan echoed.

"Yes, a look." Exasperation began to creep into Audrey's tone.

"Maybe because you were staring at her date?" Nathan suggested.

"No. It was more of an 'I know you know'."

Julia crossed her arms. "Seriously, Nathan. Take her home."

"I'm not imagining this!" Audrey insisted.

"Maybe the lighting in here is playing tricks on you? Optical illusion, that type of thing?" Julia suggested.

With his free hand, Nathan squeezed the bridge of his nose, considering his next move. "Let me go talk to the bartender. See if he noticed anything…unusual."

When Nathan walked away, Audrey turned to her friend. "What are you trying to do? 'Take Audrey home'."

"You should be thanking me," Julia countered. "Somebody has to get you and Nathan to admit your feelings. Act on them. Whatever."

"Right. Because nothing is more appealing to a man than thinking a woman is drunk or hallucinating."

"Heh. Some of the guys I've known would prefer it." Audrey grimaced at Julia's words. "Seriously, let him take care of you."

"You are in so much trouble."

"Tell me about it," Julia replied with a smile before taking another sip of her Painkiller.

Within minutes, Nathan returned to the two women. "Spoke with Sam."

"And?"

"He saw Brand with a woman. Young. Brunette. Very attractive." Definitely not a description of Sally Harrington, though at one point years ago, she may have been those things.

"Told you," Julia gloated mildly.

"I was so sure," Audrey replied, deflated.

Nathan continued, "Sam did say he'd never seen her before. That she was the type of woman he'd remember. And that she left with Brand."

Audrey shook her head. Eyes squeezed closed, she could almost see the earlier images flash before her eyes. Not of Ephraim Brand and Sally Harrington, but of herself with Ephraim Brand, his body covering hers, his hands cradling her with tenderness.

Maybe she _was_ cracking up. "This doesn't make sense."

Nathan watched Audrey's reaction, his gut telling him to trust her instincts, despite evidence to the contrary. "No, it doesn't."

Audrey's eyes flew open. "Look, I think I'm going to head home."

"Do you want a ride?"

"No. I'm fine. Julia can't drink me under the table."

"You didn't give me long enough to try," came the doctor's reply.

"You sure you're okay?" Nathan's blue eyes sought hers.

She was once again struck by how handsome Nathan was, that it was his face she wanted to see when she closed her eyes, not Ephraim Brand's. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

* * *

Audrey was toweling her hair dry when she heard a knock on the door of her room at the Over the Way Bed and Breakfast. She padded to the door and peered through the peephole. _Nathan._

"Just a minute," she called through the door. She scurried to dress, pulling on a tank top and yoga pants—her typical sleepwear.

When she opened the door, a burst of cold air greeted her, along with Nathan's tall frame.

His eyes fell on her, taking in her appearance. Her sculpted shoulders were bare. The neckline of her tank top dipped tantalizingly low over her small breasts, while her pants hugged her slender curves. Her unbrushed blond hair, darker because of its dampness, had a somewhat wild quality. Her face was scrubbed clean of every last trace of makeup. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Nathan found himself gaping.

"Wanted to make sure you got home okay. Peace offering?" he asked, producing a package of cupcakes from Rosemary's Bakery.

"You are _so_ fighting dirty." She stepped aside, inviting him into her rented room. He walked in, and she closed the door behind him. "I should be buying _you_ cupcakes. Or pancakes. Maybe funnel cakes."

"Not necessary."

The room suddenly felt very small and Audrey, very self-conscious. "Do you want something to drink?" She grabbed a sweatshirt from the back of a nearby chair. Nathan's U-Maine.

He shook his head ever so slightly. "It's okay."

Audrey pulled the too-big shirt over her head and pushed up the sleeves to her elbows. "One of these days I'll do laundry and give this back to you."

"No rush." Nathan's eyes went to the pile of clothes in the corner of the room. A light pink brassiere sat atop the heap. His lips quirked as Audrey walked to the pile, grabbed the piece of lingerie, and buried it under a sweater.

"Ignore the mess."

Her cheeks looked flushed, he thought. It was alluring. "'Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain'."

She chuckled, taking his words as a friendly challenge. "You'd better be good to me. I know about your Lego collection."

"Point taken." He handed the box of cupcakes to her and watched as she sat on the bed, drawing her legs up pretzel-style. "You could bring 'em over to my house. Do laundry there."

"May have to – or else buy all new clothes before going to Ohio."

Ohio.

With Nathan.

Not exactly the most romantic of all destinations, but the thought of being away with him made her stomach do somersaults. They would be away from the prying eyes of everyone in Haven.

Overnight.

One room or two? The thought jarred her.

Was it too soon? All she knew was their earlier kiss had complicated everything, deliciously so. She was a bundle of nerves, branching out, feeling everything at once. Trepidation. Curiosity. Yearning.

And he could feel her. Only her.

She tried to imagine what it was like for him, but she couldn't quite wrap her mind around it. All she could comprehend was her own pleasure when his fingers had brushed against her skin, sending shivers of delight through her, a prelude to what could be.

Nathan sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes devoured him as her heart slammed in her chest. He was close.

Not close enough.

"About earlier…"

"Nathan, I don't think…" Her voice trailed off and she took a deep breath. "Never mind. Cupcakes go a long way toward making everything seem so much better." She opened the package and held it out for him to take one.

"Bought them for _you_," he replied, his way of declining the confectionary. "Are we okay?"

Audrey nodded as she set aside the box. "Of course. I just…I need to know. Why didn't you tell your dad when he asked?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

As Nathan recalled, the Chief didn't exactly ask. When Garland Wuornos had blurted out, 'You felt that,' it was more of an accusation. Typical.

"He didn't need to know."

"You make it sound so simple, so cut and dry."

"It is," Nathan affirmed. He tilted his head, considering his next words. "You didn't exactly tell him everything, either, did you?"

The mild accusation perplexed her. "What are you talking about?"

"Our suspicions about the apples…or the connection between the Brand family and Sally Harrington's brother…or how Vince Teagues and Charlie Thornhill both seemed shaken by Brand…"

"And say what exactly?" Audrey asked leaning toward him. "We don't know anything concrete."

"Never stopped you before." Nathan exhaled loudly, acutely aware of her proximity. Amazing how such a petite woman could loom so largely in his sphere of consciousness. Of course, the fact that they were on her bed may have had something to do with that. "Why'd you run out?"

"I didn't run out. I left. Abruptly." Her words sounded ridiculous in her own ears. "I needed space."

"From me?" She sure as hell wasn't acting like a woman who wanted space. Much more, and they'd have no space between them at all.

"You can feel me, Nathan. That's a big deal."

Didn't he know it.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed about your dad knowing."

"You thought I was embarrassed?" Nathan asked incredulously.

"He's your dad. Don't you think he'd want to know?"

"He knows."

"But not because you told him," she persisted.

"It's complicated."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Parker, he and I don't see eye-to-eye on much of anything. He's been stonewalling me at every turn, every time I ask a question about Lucy, about my mom…" Nathan squeezed the bridge of his nose, an old habit, as he gathered his thoughts. "When I discovered I could feel you, I didn't know what it meant. Still don't. You only just found out a few days ago. So, no, I didn't tell my dad."

When he laid out the matter that way, Audrey felt regret twist within her. "I'm sorry I ran out on you."

"You just left," he replied with nonchalance. "Abruptly." That drew a small smile from her. "I'm sorry I made you feel awkward about things. That's the last thing I wanted to do."

"Your dad is not happy that you can feel me. He's worried," Audrey observed.

"Yes."

"Did he say why?"

Nathan looked pained.

"Tell me," Audrey insisted.

"He said it's not good for partners to be in a relationship. Leads to complications."

"By the book. He's right, you know. This isn't a good idea."

Nathan looked squarely at Audrey. "Pandora's Box has already been opened."

"We can close it."

"You want to?"

"I want a lot of things, but I wouldn't undo what's going on with us. But your dad's right to be worried. Not just for professional reasons."

"Don't let my dad's reaction make you…"

"It's not just that. I don't know who or…or _what_ I am. Does either of us know what we're really getting into?"

"Does anyone ever?" he replied.

What she said at the Gull to Julia played over in her mind. What man wants to be with a woman who hallucinates? The one thing Audrey had always taken pride in was being in control. For all the things in her life she had no control over—her upbringing being prime among them—as an adult, she had carefully weighed her decisions, thought through her career moves, even her scant relationships. But ever since being in Haven, she felt as though her life was spinning further and further out of control.

The vision of her with Ephraim Brand was a key example. The last thing she wanted was another complication. It was one thing to envision herself with Nathan. He was her best friend; they shared a common sense of humor, a mutual goal of helping the town get through the Troubles. They shared an attraction and trust. But Ephraim Brand was nothing to her but a riddle. A riddle wrapped in a shiny package, but an unknown variable, nonetheless. The flash had jarred her.

Was it right to drag Nathan further into the craziness her life had become?

"But Nathan, what we might find out about my past—"

"I know everything I need to know." He eyed the box next to her, eager for a change in topic. "So did you finally reach the cupcake tipping point?"

She didn't follow the shift in conversation at first. "What's that?"

"You know, where you've had so many cupcakes that if you never see another one, it'll be too soon."

"You tired of pancakes yet?" Audrey reached for the bakery box, took a cupcake, and began to peel back the paper liner. She took a bite of the treat—chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. Her eyes widened. "This is unreal. You've got to try it." She held out the treat.

With some hesitation, Nathan reached for her arm, his fingers running lightly against her skin. Cradling her wrist, he brought her cupcake to his mouth and took a bite. His eyes never left her face. "Perfect."

Something in his look made her feel as though her very breath had been stolen from her. Did he know what he was doing to her, that it was taking every ounce of her willpower to not absolutely pounce on him?

"Sure I can't tempt you?" Audrey asked holding out the package to him.

Oh, she could tempt him all right, Nathan decided as he stood to get some distance from her before he lost his self-control. "Bite's enough for now."

Audrey placed the partially eaten cupcake back into the package.

"I should go. It's getting late."

Yes, he should. She needed to process everything.

Nathan. The churning feelings of lust and caring, of want and need.

Brand. The uneasiness, the questions, the eerie connection they seemed to have that she could not fathom.

Her own sanity. Why was she having these flashes? And why had she seen Brand's date as Sally Harrington?

So, yes. He should go. Audrey agreed with that. Logically. But when it came down to it, she just wasn't ready to see him go yet.

"I can't let you go. Not like that."

"We're fine. Right?"

"Yeah, but you have icing on your…" She stood and closed the distance between them. Nathan was frozen in place as Audrey ran her thumb over his bottom lip and then licked the icing from her thumb. "Better."

"What are you doing, Audrey?" His voice came out low, rough.

What _was_ she doing? Above all else, Nathan was her friend. She had no right to essentially send mixed signals. The touches were unfair, now that she had some idea of what they did to him considering what his touches did to her…

_Commit. One way or the other. Either you want him or you don't._

"I don't know." It was honest, as honest as she could be. She didn't know where her head was, though it was becoming clearer to her all the time where her heart was.

"I do." Nathan rested his hand on her hip, drawing her closer still. His fingers found their way under the hem of the sweatshirt and tank top.

Silky smoothness. Warmth.

He looked to see if she would protest, shrink away from his touch. Instead, her fingers coiled around his hand, encouraging his exploration of her skin.

He leaned down, his forehead against hers. "When you kissed me earlier, I couldn't…I couldn't believe it."

"It was a long time in coming."

And then his lips were on hers. Words were replaced by actions, gentle touches that made her crave more from him. It felt as though her whole world was made up of him. Just him. His taste. His scent. His warmth.

This was real.

This was real.

This was _real_.

"Dammit," she heard him utter. He pulled away briefly, shedding the sling he wore in favor of better mobility.

"You've got to be careful," she gently admonished. "I need you to not hurt yourself. Worse," she added.

"Deal," he replied with a lopsided smile.

Her hands dipped between them, Audrey unbuttoned Nathan's shirt. She pushed the fabric from his shoulders, and he shook off the material.

Her eyes locked onto his chest. She was once again struck by the thought that clothing did him no justice. But the bandage that covered his wounds served as a visible reminder that she would have to be careful, as well.

She began a tentative exploration, charting every dip, every line, every exposed morsel of his skin. She grazed her fingertips along his jaw, smiled at the stubble, nuzzled him even as her hands found their way to his hair, gently scratching his scalp with her fingernails.

His eyes fluttered.

With one hand, he began a voyage of discovery of his own, making tiny circles with his thumb along the small of her back. The other hand he rested on the nape of her neck, bringing her lips against his own.

Warmth, wetness. He nibbled at her bottom lip, sending tremors through her body. Pleasure pooled in her stomach as she felt his hands move more boldly, exploring along her ribcage and finally stroking the underside of her breasts. She gasped lightly but protested as he backed away, looking down at her to gauge her reaction. _Is this okay?_ He seemed to be asking wordlessly.

He was hesitant, playing it safe.

She didn't want to play it safe. Not anymore. In answer, Audrey peeled off the sweatshirt and tank top, and stood exposed before him. Nathan drank her in, as though memorizing her form with his eyes before he began to memorize her with his hands and his mouth. Her skin was creamy. Her small breasts perfectly formed. A freckle dotted the skin above her belly button.

He went to his knees, regarding her with absolute adoration before the combination of his soft lips and rough cheeks along her skin had her squeezing her eyes shut in a futile attempt to steady her quivering limbs. She wanted him everywhere at once, but more than anything, she wanted his skin against hers.

She moved out of his reach and toward the bed. He looked at her questioningly, but she held out her hand to him, an invitation to join her. He took it and sank onto the mattress with her as she lay back.

His lips found her neck, even as his thumbs brushed over her nipples. His kisses—his beautiful kisses—left her feeling filled and starved all at once. She wanted this. She wanted more. She moved against him, cognizant of her own sensation overload as she urged him atop her and spread her legs to cradle him against herself, instinctively wanting to feel that intimate closeness, despite the articles of clothing they still wore.

"Audrey," he hissed as he felt her nails lightly rake down his back. He broke their kiss and gazed down at her, a look that had her heart pounding heavily as she saw just how stormy with want Nathan's eyes were. "You are so beautiful." His lips brushed against hers again. "You are so beautiful," he murmured.

Her hands went to his belt, working it open. She needed this. She needed _him_. To alleviate her ache within. To show him what he had come to mean to her when her words just wouldn't form, when words weren't adequate expressions.

And then the room seemed to be off-balance. That was the first thought that entered her mind before the popcorn-textured white ceiling suddenly seemed to swirl, only to be replaced by a canopy of trees.

_Sunlight shone through the trees, diluted into streaming rays. But the colors were off. The air was sweet around them._

_This felt wrong somehow._

_But she suddenly couldn't remember why anymore as the man who hovered above her began to push her dress up her thighs with his hands. She could feel his fingers graze her inner thighs as he tugged at her panties. _

"_Ephraim."_

"_I'll never tire of this," he smiled. "I want to be with you. My eternal love. Now. Always."_

"_Of course. Always."_

_His hands moved beneath her head, cradling her. She was overwhelmed by his tenderness, even as his body pressed against her insistently. _

"_We'll always be connected." His green eyes penetrated her. Sometimes she swore he could look into her very soul. And sometimes it was too much. She looked beyond him, to the blue sky peeking through the umbrella of trees. She loved that shade of blue._

_He brought her eyes back to his, and she touched his face, caressing it. "Always."_

"_I mean it. I will never let you go. Time. Space. They mean nothing to us."_

"Audrey?!" Nathan's voice sounded two shades shy of panic. "Audrey? Come back to me."

She blinked. "Nathan." She was back in her familiar rented room. And Nathan—Nathan was with her on her bed.

"You were somewhere else. Blacked out again." He stroked her hair.

Audrey felt sickened, for the memories that had swarmed upon her were so contrary to what she wanted, who she wanted. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he sighed against her. He wiped away tears she didn't even realize she had been shedding. "I'm going to call Julia."

"Don't." She pushed against him gently. He moved next to her, and she sat up. "It's not—it's not something she can help me with. I saw it earlier tonight and just now." Her words came out as little more than a harsh whisper.

"Another vision?"

She nodded.

"Okay. The flashes." Nathan frowned. They seemed to be coming more frequently, and this one had Audrey panicky. "The blood again?"

"No. I just—" She held up her hand, as though to put the conversation on hold, before sliding off the bed and retrieving the sweatshirt. She pulled it on, feeling the need to cover herself, though the fabric seemed ineffective compared to how bare she felt.

"Was it us? That part isn't so bad, is it? And we were getting…closer."

"Not you. I saw someone else."

The words were harsh. They hung in the air.

"Someone from Lucy's past?"

"No. I—no." She turned away from him, but she could feel his approach. He stood behind her, his hands gently resting on her shoulders.

"What aren't you saying?"

"You aren't going to like it. I don't like it, and I have no idea what it means."

With his hands, he coaxed her around to face him. "Tell me, Audrey."

This was not a conversation she wanted to have. When the images came at the Gull, it had happened so quickly. She had almost talked herself into thinking it didn't matter, that it had no relevance to anything. But she couldn't ignore it. Not anymore.

"I need my partner, Nathan. Not my…" What should she even call him? He wasn't her boyfriend. He wasn't her lover. She let her sentence drop.

"Tell me, Parker." Nathan replied crisply, letting her go.

"I saw Ephraim Brand. I was with him."

* * *

Sally Harrington rolled over on her stomach and looked at the man sitting on the edge of her bed. The design on his well-muscled back caught her eye, and she reached out to run her fingers over it. Almost as quickly as she touched him, he stood, pulled his pants around his trim waist, and fastened them.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "It's late."

Ephraim Brand regarded the woman with little interest. "To my room."

"I thought you might stay with me." She tried to keep her words casual, but the pleading tone with which she spoke betrayed her.

"As pleasurable an interlude as this was—and I do thank you for it—I won't be staying."

Sally sat up. "I did everything you asked of me."

"Yes, you did. And you've been roundly compensated." Ephraim pulled on his shirt, though he did not button it. "You do look lovely."

It wasn't enough. Sally choked back a sob even as she looked at her youthful skin. "How is this even possible?"

"Don't ask too many questions, Sally. You won't like the answers."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	22. Phoenix Rising

Previously in _Phoenix Rising_…

When last we saw our characters, Audrey was becoming pulled into the mystery of Ephraim Brand on multiple levels. She witnessed him at the Grey Gull—on a (surprising) date with Sally Harrington, his middle-aged housekeeper—but Julia perceived Sally as being a young, beautiful woman. Julia also encouraged Audrey to pursue a relationship with Nathan after learning the two had finally kissed.

While with Julia, Audrey had another vision, this one entirely different from the ones brought on by Lady Cassandra. This vision showed her intimate with Ephraim Brand, who was declaring his eternal devotion.

Nathan arrived at the Gull at Audrey's request, and when he questioned the bartender, the man corroborated Julia's account of Brand's companion as a young woman.

Hoping to smooth things over with Audrey—and also check on her—Nathan showed up at her room at the bed and breakfast with cupcakes and an apology. The tension between the two boiled over as they seemed to be heading for a far more intimate endeavor than simply kissing. A revisiting of the vision of herself with Ephraim Brand put a stop to that.

Meanwhile, Brand bedded Sally, who was reveling in her recaptured youth. Her joy quickly soured, however, as he left her bed and admonished her that she should not ask so many questions. She wouldn't like the answers.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: "Phoenix Rising"**

"You were with Ephraim Brand?" Nathan's tone sounded detached, the same unemotional tone Audrey had heard him take hundreds of times while asking questions related to police business. She was grateful. Telling him what she had experienced was difficult enough. If he played the role of jealous boyfriend, she would've been lost.

Audrey tried to be equally even with her responses, though the strange flutter in her chest when she looked at Nathan's kiss-swollen lips did not make the task easy. "In the woods. Maybe even the very woods where we saw the mountain lion."

"Were you investigating?"

"No. Definitely not. We were close."

"Close?" Nathan faltered somewhat.

"He was…holding me." Audrey ran her hand over her wet hair, halfway expecting to find leaves or twigs from the woods. Strange. It had been so real and so wrong.

"Was he hurting you?" Nathan's voice came out low, dangerous. The detachment was gone.

"No. He was tender. He called me…" She broke off.

Nathan looked at her expectantly and she felt all the more hesitant. What a night. She and Nathan had finally kissed—were on their way to far more than that—and she had a vision of another man. Not exactly the way to bolster a relationship.

Audrey took a deep breath. "He called me his 'eternal love.' He said we would always be connected."

"What happened?"

"That was it. The flash of…whatever…was over."

Nathan was quiet a moment, considering what she had told him. Finally, he asked, "You think this is another flash of something that hasn't happened yet?"

"No." There was no hesitation there. "Definitely not."

"You saying that for my benefit?" Nathan asked.

She reached out and took his hand. "You, of all people, I need to be honest with." Audrey's teeth grazed her bottom lip. "I don't know what this was, but it was intimate. It was me, but it didn't feellike _me_."

"Sure it wasn't Lucy?"

"I—but how?"

"Maybe it wasn't the Ephraim Brand we know. Maybe Lucy knew his father. Brand has commented on the family resemblance."

"And Lady Cassandra spoke of a man with Lucy at the fun fest in 1983, the one who pulled her away from the crowd after the near trapeze accident." Relief swept over her.

"Doesn't hurt to check it out."

Audrey cleared her throat, a half chortle. A few minutes ago, she had been ready to come unglued.

"What?" Nathan asked, a half-smile crossing his features.

"You surprise me." She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand and watched the reaction to the sensation play across his features. She wished she had been touching him all along.

"How so?"

"I thought for certain you'd warn me to steer clear of all things Brand."

"I don't like the idea of you poking around that estate, around that family. But I also know you're stubborn and resourceful and—" Nathan cut himself short. "I want you to get answers, Audrey. I'd do anything to help you."

"There are times I wish I had never heard of Lucy Ripley."

"I'm grateful you did. If not, you never would have stayed here. And I—" He broke off again. No words were adequate, not when she was _everything_.

Audrey's hand went over her mouth as she suddenly remembered. "It's here somewhere." She moved away from Nathan and focused on the stacks of books in her room. One after another, she set them aside, not taking particular care to be tidy. Finally, her hands fell on the hardbound book for which she'd been searching and held it up so Nathan could see. An image of Brand House adorned the dust jacket. "I've had this since the first day we went out to the estate."

"The gift from Mr. Brand."

"Right. I just haven't had the chance to…" Her voice trailed off as she opened the cover and saw the dedication page.

_To my eternal love._

Nathan moved closer and looked over her shoulder. She could sense his tension, even with her back to him. "He wanted me to find this."

"Maybe he thought it would trigger a memory."

Audrey swallowed hard. She felt nothing familiar as she held the book, even seeing the words conjured nothing but dread. "But why? If what I saw was Lucy's memory, it has nothing to do with him. He would've been a child."

"You sure?"

She turned to look at him. "What are you thinking?"

"Somehow you came back to Haven after being gone twenty-seven years. Who's to say Ephraim Brand didn't do the same?"

* * *

The drive to Brand House likely would have taken place at the crack of dawn if Audrey had her druthers. As it was, cooler heads prevailed (Nathan's), and they waited until a respectable 9:00 a.m. before darkening the doorstep of the manor house. So many questions swirled around in her mind, but it all came back to this: did Ephraim Brand hold the answers she had been seeking for so long?

When she finally knocked on the door, it was Sally Harrington who opened it. The housekeeper's mouth set in a tight line upon seeing Audrey and Nathan. "What is the nature this visit?" She made no effort to move aside or invite them inside.

"Is Mr. Brand available?" Audrey asked, the older woman's demeanor not lost upon her.

Sally looked from Audrey to Nathan and coolly informed them, "Mr. Brand is not here."

"When do you expect him back?" Audrey asked.

"Is this official police business?" Sally countered.

"Would that change your willingness to be cooperative?" Nathan asked.

Sally's frown only deepened. Begrudgingly, she explained, "He's gone out of town on business. Is there anything else?"

Audrey placed her hand against the door to discourage the housekeeper from closing it. "Do you know me, Sally?"

Beside her, Nathan's brows furrowed. _Sally?_ No, this woman looked years younger than the Sally Harrington he met the day before.

The woman's voice was icy. "We met yesterday when I showed you in."

"Yes, and you reacted to me. When you heard my voice and really looked at me. Did you know Lucy Ripley?"

"Everyone knew Lucy."

"What can you tell me about her?"

"Nathan. Officer Parker. I didn't expect to see you here." Charlie Thornhill approached the duo from the wooded trail. He sounded like a nervous man trying to mask his nervousness. "S-sally." He nodded in the housekeeper's direction.

"I should get back to my chores. I trust you know your way off the property." With that Sally pushed the door shut, forcing Audrey to quickly remove her hand to avoid having it sandwiched.

"Friendly," Nathan deadpanned.

"I'm glad to see you are doing better, Nathan. Last time I saw you…"

"There was a giant cat attached to me."

"No sling or…"

"I'm healing well enough now that I don't need the sling. Just being careful." Nathan looked up at the imposing stone house. "Sally Harrington is looking more…vibrant…than I remember."

Audrey looked to Nathan, fighting her natural inclination to gape. Nathan saw Sally as a younger woman, just as she saw Sally the way she had appeared the day before—a middle-aged, graying woman. How was it possible they were seeing two versions of the same person? At least they now knew without a doubt that she wasn't imagining what she observed at the Grey Gull.

Charlie tugged at his gardening gloves and cleared his throat. "I think she may have had some work done recently."

"Have a few minutes, Charlie?" Nathan asked.

Charlie hesitated but finally said, "Um, sure. But you'll have to shadow me to the orchard. I'm racing against the clock to get things done before the cold sets in for the season."

"You two go on. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes," Audrey said.

Nathan shot her a look that told her he knew exactly what she was doing—and he didn't like it. In response, she tilted her head in the direction of the orchard as though to say, _Go_.

Once Nathan and Charlie were a fair distance down the path, Audrey returned to the front door. If she thought it would help, she would've crossed her fingers and wished it to be unlocked. If worse came to worse, she was pretty sure she had what she needed in Nathan's Bronco to pick the lock. The old superstition and lawbreaking both turned out to be unnecessary, though, when the door opened easily.

The foyer was as grand as Audrey remembered and devoid of human company. She quietly closed the door behind her and found herself torn between wanting to find Sally to interrogate her versus exploring the manor house for anything familiar, anything that might provide a clue to her own past.

The wood paneled walls gleamed, as did the marble floor beneath her feet. The painting of Pandora once again caught her eye. The winged creatures were grotesque, all except for hope. And Pandora was hopelessly lost over what she had done.

"And where do you fit in all this?" the slightly accented voice of Ephraim Brand filled the foyer.

That one she didn't count on. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I know." Brand closed the distance between them, stood next to Audrey, and gazed at the painting with her. "So where do you fit in all this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you Pandora, the curiosity seeker? Are you hope?"

"Or am I one of these really ugly creatures?" Audrey added.

"You are assuredly not one of those. Pandora, perhaps? You are a curious woman, Audrey Parker, if I read you correctly."

"Curiosity is how you make discoveries."

"And what discoveries do you seek?"

Quick footsteps on the marble alerted them that they were not alone. Sally Harrington came to an abrupt stop. "I-I thought you'd left the estate." Her words were sharply directed at Audrey.

"And I heard that Mr. Brand was out of town," Audrey retorted.

"You were misinformed." Brand threw Sally a withering look.

"Do you have a few minutes?" Audrey asked, turning her attention back to Ephraim Brand.

"For you, as long as you need."

"Sir, I—" Sally began.

"That will be all, Ms. Harrington." He did not look at the housekeeper as he addressed her. His gaze was solely fixed upon Audrey. "Now, I believe I was just about to remark upon what a lovely surprise it is to have you here this morning. Are you here on police matters or personal ones?"

"Personal ones."

"This day is looking more and more auspicious. Would you care for refreshments?"

"Call me paranoid, but I think I'm going to avoid anything prepared by Ms. Harrington."

"No harm will come to you here. You do believe that, don't you?" He spoke earnestly.

"I was joking. Well, mostly." She paused, realizing how intently he was studying her. The shade of green was identical to that which she saw in her vision, and she found herself unconsciously gravitating toward him. She shook off the strange magnetism, and refocused on her purpose. "Have you ever heard of Lucy Ripley?"

The trace of a smile touched his features. "Yes. I knew Lucy Ripley many years ago. You favor her somewhat." Unabashed, he lifted a hand to touch her hair, running blond tendrils between his fingers. "Her hair was darker than yours. Longer."

"You're just now mentioning the resemblance?"

Ephraim stepped back. "It's been years since I've laid eyes on her."

"But from the first moment you saw me, you noticed."

"I did," he admitted.

"And you walked away. That day outside the _Herald_."

"Obviously you are not Lucy. It made no sense to approach you on those terms, no matter how lovely I find you to be. But now that this topic has been broached, I must inquire. Are you a relative?"

"I don't know, but she is why I stayed in Haven." Audrey crossed her arms. "How did you know Lucy?"

"Come." He reached out and gently tugged on her forearm, uncrossing it, until he cradled her hand in his. Audrey's first instinct was to pull away, but her desire to discover more overrode that impulse.

"Where are we going?" she asked, digging in her heels as he tried to lead her down the hallway, though she did not shake off the contact completely.

"You have questions about Lucy, yes?"

"Yes."

"I have answers." He chuckled slightly. "Though they will cost you." His voice was warm, despite the words themselves.

"And what is your price?"

"Come find out." He noted her reticence and seemed amused by it, if his wide smile was any indication. "I will be a perfect gentleman—unless you prefer that I not be."

* * *

"I don't think it's good for you to be here, Nathan," Charlie Thornhill began as they approached the orchard. Already the trees had shed their leaves; harvest time was long since gone. A small wagon loaded with pruners and other tools sat in the grove.

"What the hell's going on out here, Charlie?"

"You're as direct as ever, Nathan." Thornhill removed the pruners from the wagon and approached an apple tree. "It's culling time." He was being deliberately obtuse.

Nathan could not smell the sickening sweetness in the air that he'd noticed the last few times he had been to the estate, but he could not shake the sense that the estate wasn't greeting card material. "Remember the stories about this place when we were kids?"

"You need to stop. Stop digging. Stop asking questions."

"Are you in trouble?"

"Trouble." Thornhill chuckled, though it sounded more of desperation than amusement. "Aren't we all?" He snipped an errant offshoot from the tree near its base.

"Your boss—"

Charlie froze mid-cut. "I won't talk about him."

"He's an unusual man," Nathan persisted.

"Nathan, let it go."

"Fair enough. That an interesting tattoo on your arm." The familiar inking peered out from under the flannel shirt Thornhill wore; only one compass point was visible, but the design was unmistakable. No wonder Duke was spooked.

"Why the interest? Why are you here?"

But Nathan ignored Charlie's questions. "I've seen it a couple of times before."

And Charlie Thornhill gave up his pretense of apathy. "You have? Where?"

"On the arms of two dead men," Nathan bluntly stated.

"What happened to them?"

"The Troubles."

"I'm not Troubled."

"Why that design?"

"I didn't choose it," Charlie admitted. "It appeared one day."

* * *

The hallway in which Ephraim led Audrey was wide and seemed more a showcase than a passageway. Though being in Brand House, she was starting to realize the entire place was a showcase. To what exactly, she wasn't sure. But it was all purposeful. In this particular area, various works of art adorned either side of the corridor, mostly in the form of oil paintings and most of them symbols of antiquity or mythology. It was enough to make Audrey feel very small in the grand scheme of things.

"You admired the painting of Pandora. I thought you might enjoy these."

"Yes." She studied the other portraits as they went down the hall slowly. "You've quite a collection."

"Gathered over many years."

They stopped in front of a large oil painting. "Delacroix himself painted this one. It is an un-cataloged piece, passed down in my family." In it, a man with a flowing white beard and robes with a look of anger in his features, pointed at a man and woman who were strategically covered by fig leaves, though one of the leaves covering the woman's breast was dipped low. The man and woman looked anguished. "Adam. Eve. A paradise lost."

"An apple." The vivid color of the fruit resonated with Audrey. The hue was distinct, familiar. "The artist makes the forbidden fruit look quite appealing."

"Isn't that what forbidden fruit is supposed to be? Otherwise, why would we crave it? It does represent the original sin, though I daresay mankind has become far more creative than mere disobedience."

"If Sister Mary Margaret were here, she would take a ruler to your knuckles for that."

Brand grinned. "Then all the better that I am here with you."

Audrey moved to another painting, a bird suspended in flames. Stylistically, it was quite divergent from the other paintings in the collection, though it continued the theme of antiquity. "And this one. The phoenix?"

"Resurrection myths, they're a personal favorite of mine," Ephraim admitted. "From Osiris to Adonis, Jesus Christ, Odin, the phoenix." Brand stood behind her. "Rising from its own ashes. A new life from an old one. Poetic. Stark. This piece always makes me contemplative. Just how much does the new creature know of its predecessor's life?"

"Perhaps it's a blank slate."

"_Tabula rosa_? There's no such thing, contrary to what Freud and Rousseau would have us believe. We are the sum of what has come before us."

"And when you don't know what has come before you?" Audrey asked.

"You seek answers. Curiosity, Pandora."

"So what came before you?"

His hand rested on her waist. With a guiding touch, he said, "Come. I'll show you."

Ephraim led Audrey further down the hallway until they reached a carved wooden door. From a distance she could not discern the details of the carvings, but as they grew closer, she recognized the interlocked circular maze, the compass points, and small men at each point.

"This design. What is it?"

"It's become something of a family crest." He pushed the door open to reveal a study. The dark wood she had seen throughout the house also flowed into this room. The carving was mirrored on the other side of the door, Audrey noted. Her attention was quickly diverted, however, by a painting on the wall of a man. His features were familiar, as they were strikingly similar to the man standing next to her. "The first Ephraim Brand—many generations ago—arrived here as an indentured servant. His name was actually Randolph. He never fancied it. Being a servant—or the name."

"He looks like you."

"It's fascinating how genetics work, though technically I look like him, as he was my predecessor," Brand corrected.

Audrey stared at the painting. It was lifelike. Eerie in its likeness. Once again, she noted the maze, this time carved into the corners of the dark wooden frame that held the aged painting.

"And this design?" Audrey asked, tracing it with her fingers.

"This design was branded into his skin, an outward sign of his seven-year commitment. And at the conclusion of those seven years, he began life anew, gave himself a new identity. The story goes that he chose Ephraim because he felt he earned the name and Brand for this mark on his back, branded into his skin, a reminder from whence he came. A new life but not a blank slate."

"I've seen this design elsewhere."

"Have you now?"

"On a dead man's arm."

"Law enforcement, a gruesome line of work."

"You have no idea. I've also seen it on Charlie Thornhill's arm."

"Yes, Charlie is devoted, is he not?"

"How did you know Lucy? You must've been a child, unless you're older than you look." Audrey tested the waters and waited to see how he would react. Ephraim Brand's reaction was far from demonstrative.

"Have dinner with me. Tonight, Audrey."

"I don't like games."

"Then it is providential that games shall not be on the menu."

"I'm here now," she pointed out.

"Yes, but your partner will undoubtedly interrupt at any moment. My answers are for you, not him."

Audrey studied Brand. How did he even know Nathan was there with her? "Is this the price for answers? A bribe?"

"You're the first woman I've had to bribe. I'll send over a car for you at 7:30 p.m. sharp."

"I didn't say yes."

"But you will."

* * *

_To be continued…._


	23. New Territory

**Author's Note: **Well, this is a long chapter, perhaps the longest thus far in this story. A big thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. I tried to contact each of you who left a review for the last chapter through PM individually but was unable to do so for anonymous guests or those who have private messaging turned off. So please accept my sincerest thank you. Your encouragement definitely keeps me going. Anyhow, I hope you will like this one. :)**  
**

It is also entirely possible that there is a weird typo in here. I really do try to proofread, but sometimes when you've been looking at a story for awhile, you see it as it should be rather than as it is. I'll give it a day or two to get some distance from the text and peruse it again to catch my mistakes.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-three: "New Territory"**

"Glad you made it out in one piece," Nathan said after Audrey climbed into the Bronco and pulled the door closed.

With his characteristic flat tone, Audrey couldn't quite tell if Nathan was joking. Probably not, considering his disdain for all things Brand. She swallowed hard as she buckled the seat belt.

"That was strange." She looked back at the stone manor house, not entirely certain what she was looking for. Just _something_. But even though she felt like something had changed, the structure remained the same, probably much as it had appeared since it was constructed many, many years ago.

"Yeah. I'm there with you," Nathan replied as he started the ignition.

Audrey turned to look at him. She was struck by his profile. Straight nose. Cleft chin. Strong brow. He licked his lips, just the flick of his tongue, and her train of thought was positively derailed. _This is ridiculous_. _This is Nathan. You see him every day._ But his face though…

She looked straight ahead. _Focus. Focus on the road. The case_. "Okay. You first. What happened with Thornhill?"

"Charlie was uneasy. Refused to talk about Brand, warned me against asking too many questions."

"A warning, not a threat?"

"Definitely not a threat," Nathan reiterated. "He didn't have much to say until I mentioned the tattoo on his arm, that I've seen it before on dead men. He told me he didn't get the tattoo. It appeared spontaneously."

"Of course. Spontaneous combustion happens. Why not spontaneous tattooing?" Audrey looked back out the passenger window as they began their descent down Nákúset Summit, leaving the Brand Estate behind them. Out of sight, not out of mind. "So when did the mark appear?"

"A few weeks ago. Said he awoke and it was there."

"I've heard getting a tattoo hurts like hell. I can't imagine he slept through that. Then again, my guess is this isn't a typical tattoo."

"I asked him if he knew Bill Reiser or Joe Campbell."

"And?"

"He didn't."

"Remember how I told you I like weirdness?"

"Yep."

"Well, I lied. It's overrated." Audrey rested her head against the glass of the window. She could feel the coolness of the surface radiate outward, and she shivered slightly.

Wordlessly, Nathan turned up the heat in the old truck. "Aren't you the same one who said crime scenes are fun?"

"Still better than golf." Audrey caught sight of him in the corner of her eye, waiting to see if he would defend his hobby. He didn't. "But a mystery is more fun when you're not the one at the center of it. You ever think it would be nice to just pack a bag and go? Get away to where things are normal and quiet and troubles would be things like the car won't start or putting too much herbicide on the grass?"

"What happened?"

"That mark—it turns out it's something of a Brand family emblem."

"Sally told you that?"

"No, Ephraim did."

Nathan tensed. "Thought he was out of town."

"So did I. When I went back in the house, he found me."

"Snooping?"

"Nah. He found me before I had the chance to snoop."

"Shame about that. So Sally lied."

Audrey thought back to the malice in the other woman's eyes. "No great surprise there."

"You weren't the one seeing things last night at the Gull. Apparently the rest of us are. You think it's a Trouble?"

"It has to be, but the pattern's off somehow. The Troubles tend to run in families, are brought on by some kind of emotional trauma…"

"But they don't affect you the way they do everyone else. You see her as she is. Seems like a Trouble to me."

"Maybe?" Audrey sounded unconvinced. "I'd say she was bothered when she saw me yesterday, but I don't see how that could have been traumatic."

Following Audrey's line of thinking, Nathan added, "Her brother died, but that was years ago."

"And what kind of Trouble is it to appear younger, anyway?" Audrey smiled to herself. "I worked a case about a year and a half ago. A smuggling ring."

"Duke involved?"

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny. Wrinkle cream from Thailand with a few questionable and frankly disgusting ingredients. Not anything I'd want on _my_ face. But these wealthy women who were financing it, they were desperate to get it. Sally Harrington seems to have discovered some type of fountain of youth. If it's a Trouble, it's the type women would kill for."

"What did Brand have to say?"

"He admitted that he knew Lucy but was evasive as to exactly how. He did, however, show me some pieces of art. A painting of Paradise Lost with the apple front and center. Another of a phoenix rising from its own flames."

"Not exactly subtle is he?"

"Are we back to 'pretentious, obvious'?"

"Don't forget shady."

Audrey shook her head and smiled despite her frustration over the lack of answers. "He took me to his study. The door was carved with amaze and compass points."

At that, Nathan's eyebrows shot up.

"When I asked about it, he showed me a painting of the first Ephraim Brand. They share quite the family resemblance. More than your typical genetic craps shoot. _And _it turns out his name was Randolph."

"Randolph?" Nathan echoed with a half-sneer.

"Brand said that his ancestor had been an indentured servant who had the maze emblem branded on his back—the same one we've seen in the form of tattoos."

"Ouch."

"When his time of service was over, he gave himself a new identity to go along with his new start. He chose _Ephraim_ because he felt he 'earned' it, whatever that means. _Brand_ for obvious reasons."

Nathan paused for a moment before asking, "What does 'Ephraim' mean? How do you earn _that_?"

Audrey pulled out her phone and Googled it. "It's a Hebrew name. Means _fruitful_."

"Fruitful," Nathan repeated. "Productive. Fertile. Or…full of fruit. Not subtle at all."

"No. I asked him how old he is. He never answered, but he attributed his resemblance to the other Ephraim Brands as genetic coincidence. If he's the equivalent of Patient Zero, he's not admitting to it."

"Or it could be a Trouble."

"On par with Sally's?"

Nathan shook his head slightly as he considered the theory. "Except you would see through his Trouble."

"And he seems quite virile for a guy who would have to at least…" she mentally calculated his age in her mind, "…300 years old."

"So what has you tied up in knots? That Lucy had incredibly poor taste in men?"

"I'm glad you can joke about this because he offered to tell me about Lucy tonight. Over dinner."

"He asked you out," Nathan said flatly.

"Something like that. A bribe."

"And you said…"

"No. I don't like games." She put her phone back in her pocket. "I may be wrong, but I think it's only going to make him chase more."

"And you want him chasing you."

"I want answers. He has them."

"Or wants you to think he does," Nathan asserted.

"There's one way to find out if he's your run-of-the-mill Svengali or if there's something more Troubling about him."

"What? Get him to take off his shirt? See if he has the brand on his back?"

Audrey smiled. "I was thinking dinner conversation, but there is that."

"Every bad idea I'm throwing out, you're agreeing with."

"Then you better start throwing some good ones out there."

Within a few minutes, Nathan pulled into a parking spot outside of Audrey's bed and breakfast and turned off the ignition.

She unbuckled her safety belt, shifted her body to rest her arm on the back of the seat, and finally allowed herself to study him. How many times had she looked at Nathan without really looking? It seemed insane that it was only in the last few weeks that she began to allow for the possibility of something more between them.

And the night before, 'something more' had been more than a possibility. They had come very close to sleeping together. It was difficult to disconnect the part of her who welcomed his caresses, the part of her that urged him to her bed. "Getting answers from Brand isn't going to change what's going on…with us."

"Us." His lips turned up slightly. "Sounds nice."

"Yeah." And her heart skipped a beat. Strange. This wasn't who she was, some giddy schoolgirl, but everything felt heightened. They had hit it off—right from the start, except for pulling guns on each other—but she was getting to know him in a way that was both familiar and unfamiliar and completely, utterly invigorating. Even now, just sitting in the truck with him, it was what she needed after feeling so on edge with Ephraim Brand, as though she couldn't let down her guard for one minute in that man's presence. "Listen, I've got a lot to do to get ready for our trip."

"And your date with Brand," Nathan pointed out.

"_Please_. I'll show up in sweat pants and a UMaine sweatshirt. Totally unsexy. I won't even shave my legs."

"You have no idea, do you?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"You're…" Nathan faltered.

"I'm what?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Sexy without even trying." His words were spoken sheepishly.

Audrey laughed.

Nathan didn't.

"Oh. You were serious. I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. I just don't think of myself that way. Nice to know _you_ do, though." She reached down and stroked his hand. "Thank you, Nathan."

"For calling you sexy?"

"Well, there's that. For being my friend. For being my…for being more. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and it's because of you."

"But there's tonight."

"There is that."

* * *

It was 12:00 p.m. when the first flowers arrived at Audrey's small room at the B&B. She almost missed the delivery service. Actually would have if not for Mrs. Hall hollering into the coin-powered laundry room where Audrey was tackling her enormous pile of clothes and debating what to pack for Ohio.

At 1:00 p.m. a garment bag and box of shoes arrived. Audrey signed for it—albeit hesitantly when it occurred to her who sent them—and moved to get a tip, when the deliveryman informed her it was already taken care of. Just as was the case with the flowers.

A note was attached to the outside of the bag.

_You will be a vision in this._

_-E_

Audrey unzipped the bag and found an evening gown. Simple. Tasteful. An exquisite shade of blue. It definitely wasn't the type of apparel one would find in any of the local shops. She pulled it from the bag. It looked to be her size, though there were no tags for her to verify. She began to remove it from its hanger and then cast it aside on the bed. "No. No. I'm not going to be his doll to dress up as he sees fit."

But curiosity won over after a few minutes of trying in vain to ignore it. As she began the process of pulling her suitcase from the closet and filling it with a few items fresh from the dryer, she couldn't help but stare at the dress. It just lay there, silky, elegantly cut, calling to her.

"This is stupid," she muttered as she fingered the material. "I don't even like wearing dresses." When was the last time she'd worn one? She thought back. It had been months and months ago when she had attended the opening of Geoff and Bill McShaw's bistro. From what she understood, the Teagues brothers had purchased another one for her birthday, but she never had the chance to wear that, what with nearly being body snatched by the chameleon and all.

Nevertheless, she found herself slipping off her jeans and button-up shirt and pulling on the dress. It fit perfectly, and she had to admit that Ephraim Brand—or the stylists he consulted—had wonderful taste. The gown reminded Audrey of something a Greek goddess would wear. One shoulder was exposed. The other shoulder had material draped over it. While cut modestly in the front, the back was cut low, nearly to her waist.

When she heard someone knocking on her door at 2:00 p.m., she thought for certain it was another delivery from Mr. Brand. What else was left?

But it wasn't a delivery.

"Julia. Hey."

"Wow. Look at you." Julia's widened when she saw her friend. "What are you up to this afternoon?"

"Laundry."

"Silly me. I should've known that's what you were doing, seeing how you're dressed and all."

"Right. This." Audrey looked down. "Come in and hold that thought, would you?"

When Julia saw the back of Audrey's dress, she said, "You're going to need a different bra. Or you could go braless. I'm sure Nathan wouldn't complain."

Audrey groaned as she pulled on her jeans and then pulled off the dress. "I'm not going out with Nathan tonight," she explained as she reached for the shirt she'd been wearing a few minutes before.

"Say what?"

"I have a meeting with Ephraim Brand."

"Dressed like that?"

"He knew Lucy."

"Oh, makes perfect sense now," Julia remarked with good-natured sarcasm.

"He sent the dress over. I don't even know that I'm going to wear it. I mean, doesn't it seem kind of skeezy to send a woman you don't really know a dress and expect her to wear it?"

"Well, I've seen the man, and if he wants to send _me_ a dress, I'll be happy to wear it," Julia replied. "So this is a fact-finding mission?"

"Exactly."

"And Nathan's okay with this?" Julia's incredulity was evident both by her tone and her posture.

"Okay?" Audrey repeated. "That might be a stretch. He understands what I'm trying to do. And he supports my quest to find out everything I can."

"Well, I support you, too, but are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Not at all," Audrey replied, which elicited a soft laugh from Julia. "What brings you by?"

"I bought a little something I thought you and Nathan might enjoy. Well, Nathan mostly. When the time is right. Notice I said _when_, not _if_." Julia handed a small sparkly bag to Audrey. "I guessed on the size."

When Audrey reached in the bag, her fingers brushed across smooth, delicate fabric. She removed it from the bag and held it up. "A negligee." The deep emerald green of the satin was lovely, and the cut of the lingerie was both sensual and tasteful, but Audrey wasn't entirely sure how she felt receiving the gift itself. Julia had become a good friend to her over the last several months, but Audrey wasn't quite as open about her sex life and experiences as Julia was about hers. But when she looked at her friend and saw the hopeful expression as Julia waited for a reaction, Audrey decided to accept the gift in the spirit in which it was intended. "It's really pretty. Thank you."

"You're welcome. So."

"So."

"You're really going out with another guy tonight?"

"It's not like that."

"Look, just don't do anything to hurt Nathan or to hurt yourself."

"Not knowing about my past—I'm afraid that's what's going to hurt us."

"How could it?"

"I don't know. Yet."

"Sounds like you're borrowing trouble." Julia grimaced. "Sorry. Poor choice of words."

"There are things I haven't told you."

"Did you find out more about your mom?"

"You could say that. Julia, if I tell you something, will you keep it between us?"

"You know I will."

"Lucy Ripley wasn't my mom."

"How do you know?"

"Because somehow—and I know this sounds crazy—but somehow, _I_ am Lucy."

"You're right. That does sound crazy." Julia exhaled loudly. "Haven crazy."

"I'm not sure how it's possible. I have to get those answers."

"Audrey, you have to know that no matter what, Nathan's not going anywhere."

Nathan had told her as much. But the unknown terrified her. What was she? What did she have to do with Holly Wuornos leaving a young child motherless? Why was the chief so determined to keep everything pertaining to Lucy such a secret? And what of the visions of blood running down the streets of Haven? Of absolute darkness? No, if the information she sought were good news, there would be no need for secrecy. "There are no guarantees about anything."

"I'm sorry," Julia rubbed her forehead. "My head is still spinning. But I thought you remembered growing up in Ohio."

"I do. Vividly."

"So why do you think you're Lucy?"

"Do you remember James Garrick?"

"Vaguely. I think he used to coach little league or something when I was a kid."

Audrey was taken aback. "You played in little league?"

"Threw like a girl," Julia shrugged. "But let's focus."

"James was troubled. Lucy helped him in 1983, and I helped him a few weeks ago. And when I did, James told me that Lucy had a deep gash on the bottom of her foot caused by broken glass. Julia, I have a scar in the same place."

"Maybe you injured yourself at some point? The scars I could show you…"

Audrey was far from convinced. "I would've remembered something like that."

"Not if it happened when you were too young to remember."

"Or when I was Lucy," Audrey insisted.

"Do you remember anything about Lucy?"

"Maybe?"

"Okay, oh vague one."

"I'm sorry. I'm still trying to process everything. I mean, I might. Last night when we were at the Gull—it was right after Ephraim Brand was at our table—I had a fl—" Audrey stopped abruptly as she strained to recall the details of that encounter. "He touched me. Upper back. When he was leaving. His fingers grazed my skin, and I—"

"You what?"

"I…_remembered_."

"What does one thing have to do with the other?"

"Maybe nothing. 'Correlation does not imply causation'," Audrey recited to herself as much as to Julia.

"_Post hoc ergo propter hoc," _Julia murmured.

"But right after, I had this flash of a memory, and in that memory, I was with him. As Lucy."

"Okay. Okay. Two things. When you say _with_ him, you mean…" Audrey did not immediately respond, which told Julia what she needed to know. "Damn. The other question I have is, um, _how_? The man I saw looked like he couldn't be more than thirty-two, thirty-three tops. Lucy was a long time ago."

"Whatever I am, maybe he's the same. At least, that's what Nathan thinks."

"So Nathan knows about your 'flash.'"

"He knows."

"So what's with the suitcase?" Julia asked tilting her head in the direction of the luggage at the end of Audrey's bed.

"I'm going to Ohio tomorrow. You can't say anything to anyone."

"Not even Nathan?" Julia asked.

"Nathan knows. He's going with me."

Julia broke into a wide grin. "Yes! You've definitely got to take the nightie. And you're on the Pill, right?"

"You are _killing_ me."

"Loosen up," Julia replied. "Don't be so Puritanical."

"I'm not. I've had sex before. Evidently, more than I realized," she grimaced, thinking of her vision as Lucy.

"But this is different. It matters because Nathan matters."

Audrey sat on the edge of her bed. "He does. He matters more than anyone ever has."

"That's the closest I think I've heard you get to sentimental. That's so sweet. My little Audrey is growing up."

The more Julia teased, the pinker Audrey's face became.

"So how did you know I'd be here?" Audrey asked, changing the subject.

"I didn't. I went to the station first, didn't see your car there, so I thought I'd swing by here."

"I thought doctors were supposed to be, I don't know, busy or something."

"You trying to get rid of me?" Julia joked. "It's feast or famine at the M.E.'s office."

"I should go change out my laundry. Want to tag along?"

"You _are_ trying to get rid of me, and it's effective. Spent enough time in laundry mats when I was in school. No, I think my work here is done."

As Audrey walked Julia to the door, the two jumped slightly when they heard an abrupt knock.

"Delivery for Audrey Parker," came the call through the door.

"You're a popular girl today," Julia remarked with a smile.

"Thanks for the gift. And the talk."

Julia opened the door to face a bouquet, just as big if not bigger than the one Audrey had situated in her small room already. The deliveryman looked at Julia, impatiently waiting for her to take the flowers from him. "Don't look at me. They're hers," Julia said holding up her hands.

Audrey eyed the bouquet. "Actually, you know what? I'm thinking these should go to room 1. Ask for Mrs. Hall."

* * *

It was nearly 4:00 p.m. when yet another delivery arrived at Audrey's room, this one from Haven Fine Jewelry. As Audrey opened the flat, square box, she was stunned to find a delicate sapphire necklace, along with matching earrings.

"Unbelievable," she muttered as she looked at them. She set them aside and tried not to think of them as she finished packing her suitcase and then headed for the laundry room once again to put her last load of clothes in the dryer. As she came back to her room and nearly tripped on an uneven board on the wooden deck of the B&B, she silently mused that she should have taken Nathan up on his offer to do laundry at his house. Maybe then she wouldn't be so flummoxed by the attention Ephraim Brand was paying her.

Before, Brand's flirtations hadn't bothered her, though Nathan had certainly been bothered enough for both of them. Now that she knew there was a personal—make that _very_ personal—connection between Lucy and Ephraim Brand, it was difficult to not be bewildered and wary of his ardor.

For the most part, she had managed to keep that memory of Lucy and Brand at bay, but something Nathan said to her earlier stood out. If the man who now called himself Ephraim Brand were the original, he would have the mark on his back. While Audrey had no intention of getting him to take off his clothes, she couldn't help but wish there was a way to control the flashes of visions she received. That, and a zoom function would be convenient. Maybe then she could pay special attention and notice whether Brand had, well, a brand on his back.

But Lucy's memories of Ephraim Brand were not the ones she wanted to remember.

No, she longed to make memories with Nathan. Her vision of being in his room and beckoning to him were certainly sensual, but what struck her even more were the all-consuming emotions. She needed him like she needed air.

Maybe soon she would be in the moment with him.

Maybe Ohio would not just be finding answers about her past. Maybe it would mean figuring out her future, as well, and where Nathan fit in. Their situation was so complicated and distracting and…she took a deep breath.

_One step at a time_, she reminded herself.

It was shortly before 5:00 p.m. when Audrey received a call from the police lab in Bangor. "Officer Parker, Nancy Shaw-Reynolds here from BPD labs."

Audrey perked up. "I've been hoping to hear from you."

"Then you'll be glad to know we located the sample collected on the 23rd and were able to complete a comparative analysis with the sample you provided yesterday."

"What did you find?"

"I'm e-mailing you an unofficial report right now. The official one will be posted tomorrow for expedited delivery."

"Thank you."

"Well, they were fairly typical samples."

After hanging up, Audrey felt her phone vibrate. Sure enough, there was the report. She opened it and scanned through it.

_**Sample 1:**_

_Per 5 ml _

_erythrocytes – 45%_

_leukocytes - 54.3%_

_thrombocytes – 0.7%_

That meant little to her until she saw the last line of the analysis:

_Consistent with human blood_.

The maple trees at the Brand Estate were extruding _human_ blood?

She scoured the second report, the sample from the mountain lion.

_**Sample 2:**_

_Per 5 ml_

_erythrocytes – 45%_

_leukocytes - 54.3%_

_thrombocytes – 0.7%_

_Consistent with human blood._

"Typical my ass," she muttered.

* * *

"That was fast," Audrey stood aside for Nathan to enter her room and closed the door after him.

Nathan glanced around the room, immediately noticing folded laundry in piles on the bed, an enormous flower arrangement on top of the old-fashioned console television, as well as a suitcase on the floor, a sparkly gift bag atop the covers next to the laundry, and a royal blue dress lying across a chair. "Was running errands. You said you heard back from the lab."

"The official report is being mailed to the station, but the unofficial one verifies the trees at the Brand Estate were definitely bleeding. _Human_ blood."

Nathan's eyebrows shot up. The analysis was surprising, but at the same time, he couldn't help but think that it shouldn't have been. Nothing else around them made sense. Why should this? "So they found the sample."

"And it matches the sample you took from the mountain lion carcass."

"Assuming they didn't screw it up somehow, this is…" Nathan's voice trailed off briefly before he continued. "How exactly do trees and a mountain lion ooze human blood?"

"All things I intend to find out."

Nathan took a deep breath. He was in for a fight. For as much as he wanted Audrey to find out more about Lucy and support her, a sense of dread gnawed at him. She could handle typical situations. Hell, she could handle most _a_typical situations. In the time since she came to Haven, he had watched her weave her way through the most convoluted of cases; he knew just how capable she was. But this went beyond common weirdness and ventured into the realm of sinister. "Parker, I don't want you going out there alone tonight."

"I don't think you were invited to dinner." Her tone was jovial, but he recognized the look on her face. She was digging in. Stubborn woman.

"There are too many unknowns."

"I can kick ass if I have to."

"Audrey—"

She put her hands on her hips. "Last time I checked, I know how to take care of myself. I wear the same badge you do."

"Brand's trying to lure you there. It's part of some sort of plan."

"I have a plan, too. Get answers about Lucy. Find out what the hell is going on out there. And then tomorrow, go away with you. Want something to drink? How's your wound?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Don't avoid the question."

"I'm fine."

"And I'll be fine, too. Brand isn't going to hurt me."

"And you know this how exactly?"

"I just do. You, on the other hand," Audrey began, as she moved closer to Nathan and fingered the collar of his shirt, "I'm not sure about."

His breath caught within him, as much from her words as from the sensation of her fingers brushing across his neck. "Parker, I would never…"

Audrey's eyes widened and she felt a tinge of sadness. Did Nathan really believe she didn't trust him? "Oh. That _so_ wasn't what I meant. _You_ were the one attacked at the estate. Not me."

"By a mountain lion with human blood. And this translates into you being safe how?"

Stubborn man. Kissably stubborn. Without another word, Audrey stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Nathan's. Feather-light.

It took a moment for the kiss to register with Nathan, but when it did, he nibbled gently on her lower lip, nudging her lips apart. Her tongue sparred with his as the kiss deepened, and her greedy little noises only intensified his desire for her.

Sensations coursed through him as he felt her fingers in his hair, her fingertips running along his scalp. Her other hand curled around his forearm. She was seeking skin-on-skin contact, he realized, and yet he still couldn't quite believe that Audrey wanted him.

He protested slightly when she let go of him until he felt her hands slip underneath his shirt and skim up his back. He couldn't imagine a time when he would cease to be amazed by her touches or how perfectly she fit in his arms.

"Audrey." Nathan's soft sigh made her stomach do somersaults. "You aren't fighting fair," he reprimanded her gently, as he broke the kiss and leaned down, his forehead against hers. It struck her that his stance was still incredibly intimate. "Why'd you kiss me?" He wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

"Because I wanted to," she whispered. She pulled back slightly and looked up at him, even as her hands moved to his waist. "It's nice to be able to do that now."

"Could've done it before."

"No, I couldn't have." Audrey's teeth grazed her bottom lip and she shifted from one foot to another. "This is awkward."

But she couldn't stop the smile from forming on her lips when Nathan ran his fingertips along her cheek before resting his hand on the nape of her neck. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt so incredibly intimate. He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers.

And the atmosphere between them changed, crackling with electricity. She was eager to taste his kisses again, and pulled him closer yet. And she ached within. Physically, she needed more, so much more. And Nathan was the only one who could fill that need. And emotionally, she felt raw and exposed before him, as though her soul was laid bare. He scared her and thrilled her all at once.

His lips left her mouth and trailed along her jaw until he reached her neck. He lightly sucked, eliciting shivers of delight from her, even as her eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction.

"Oh wow," she murmured, enthralled by the touch of his soft, warm lips, the light nipping of his teeth, and the gentle scraping of his stubble against her smooth skin. And then her eyes widened as she gently put some distance between them, though her hands still coiled around his forearms. "You so better not be giving me hickeys."

A small smile played across his lips.

Audrey gasped. "Nathan Wuornos! Don't tell me you're just marking your territory! Because it won't stop me from going tonight even if I have to use a whole freaking bottle of concealer."

"Are you my territory?" he asked.

Audrey groaned. "I can kind of see Duke going the whole hickey route, but _you_?"

"No hickeys, Parker. Still awkward?"

Audrey suppressed a smile. "Oh, terribly."

"What should we do about that?" he teased back, his voice husky.

In response, Audrey crushed her lips to his, arms wrapped tightly around him. The more they kissed, the more she yearned for him. And from the feel of him against her body, he was ready, too.

What would it be like for him, a man who had gone so long without feeling, to finally make love again? The thought seized her. She wanted to give herself to him fully, to make it special for him, but a quickie was not what she had in mind for their first time.

Abruptly, she pulled away.

"We've…we've got to stop." Her breathing was heavy.

"You don't want me to kiss you?"

"No. Yes." Nathan's hands slid along her slender waist as he circled her. He stood behind her, the size of him dwarfing her, and gently nuzzled her neck. "What was the question again?"

She could feel his smile, rather than see it, even as he wrapped his arms tightly around her cocooning her. Instinctively, she leaned into him. "I'm getting picked up in a little over an hour. What I want to do with you is going to take far more time than that."

Nathan sucked in a breath. "You are tormenting me."

"I know," she replied nonchalantly. "If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure I'm tormenting myself."

Nathan let her go and she turned to look at him.

"I want to keep you safe." He was serious-Nathan again, though there was the tinge of softness he reserved only for her.

"I hope that's not the _only_ thing you want," she teased. "There are no guarantees about anything in life. Our job, by its very nature, is dangerous. And this is my job. I have to find out what Brand knows. And not just for my sake. It's bigger than that. The vision of blood running in the street—I had it for a reason. I think it's going to happen, and we need to be ready for whatever that means." With her finger, Audrey lightly traced the outline of the bandage underneath Nathan's shirt. "So how are you really?"

"Feels fine."

"Very funny, tough guy."

"It's healing. Pretty quickly, actually." Nathan cleared his throat and looked at the bouquet. "So the flowers…"

"Are from Brand."

"Lilacs and lilies."

Audrey shrugged. "I suppose they are."

"You brought lilacs and lilies to me once. Have to say that made quite an impression."

"How so?"

"You were the first woman to ever give me flowers. The only woman, actually. Tends to stick with a guy."

"Well, you had been shot. Little did I know back then that you were so prone to injuring yourself."

"I'd've shown you my warning label if you'd asked nicely."

"Next time."

Nathan's eyes fell on the vibrant blue garment lying across the chair. "And the dress? That's new, isn't it?"

"Also from Brand."

Nathan walked to the chair and held up the garment. "Where's the rest of it?"

"It's backless. That's the style. But the front is modest."

"Too bad Brand's not wearing it tonight. You could see if he has the mark or not."

The image that popped in her mind elicited a smile from Audrey.

"And the bag? From Brand also?"

"A gift from Julia. But you aren't allowed to see it yet."

"Not even a peek?" he asked moving toward it, his hand extended.

"Don't you dare!"

"How soon?"

"Soon."

"It has to be compact to fit in that bag," Nathan noted.

"Detective Wuornos, put away your curiosity."

"Impossible. I'm curious about a lot of things these days." His eyes locked on hers in a way that made her heart lurch and the room unbalanced. Or maybe that was just her.

"Look, you've got to go. I have to get ready, and you are distracting the hell out of me with your…" She struggled to find the right word before settling on, "cuteness."

"Cuteness?" Nathan repeated.

"Yes, cuteness. Now go. I'll call you as soon as I get home and tell you all about it."

* * *

"Let me get this straight. Audrey is out with Ephraim Brand tonight? That sucks."

"Yep." Nathan's expression was impassive as he sat across from Duke at the Grey Gull's bar.

Nora, the pretty brunette who normally tended bar, was far better company than Crocker. She was intuitive, knew when to chat up her customers and when to let them be. With Nathan, she followed the policy of "no company is good company," which he generally appreciated, small talk not being his thing. Duke, though, had something to say about everything. Always had.

And per usual, Duke didn't let the matter drop. "Actually, that sucks on two levels. Guy cancels our appointment and I can't even get him on the phone now. In my next life, I should come back as a cute blonde." Duke watched as Nathan downed a shot of Jack Daniel's Old No. 7. He held the bottle across the bar and refilled for his friend. "A guy like that—all the money in the world, influence—doesn't seem that guys like us have a chance."

"Parker's not the type of to be impressed by the flash," Nathan informed Duke with certainty.

"All women are, even the ones who don't seem 'the type'."

"Didn't come here to get relationship advice."

"Good, because you," Duke pointed at him, "are beyond hope." Then he paused, his mind catching up with Nathan's words. "Wait. Relationship advice? You and Audrey?"

"What I meant was—"

"No, you meant what you said. This, I should've seen coming. At the hospital, she was frantic with worry."

"She's my partner."

Duke leaned across the bar. "Does your dad know you're bopping your partner?"

Nathan's frown deepened. "Is everything about sex with you, Duke?"

"Oh, so you two aren't doing it, but you want to be. And now she's out with another guy who is wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, handsome—and I can say that objectively—probably cultured…"

"Duke." Nathan's tone came out low and harsh. "I didn't come here to talk about Audrey."

"You're the one who brought her up."

"No. That was you. You asked where she is. I told you."

"Then why are you here, Nathan? Don't tell me it's for the company."

"Definitely not. It's about the tattoo."

Duke straightened. "You could've led with that."

* * *

To be continued...


	24. Being Pandora

**Author's Note: **Thanks again to all of you who continue to read _Phoenix Rising_. I truly appreciate your continued support so much!  
And to those of you who review, it really does mean the world to me that you take the time to let me know your thoughts on the story.

To the guest reviewer who asked if I have a Tumblr, I do. Sort of. I have signed up for one (sandradeee1), but I do not have the hang of it yet and there's pretty much nothing there. LOL. Maybe this old dog will learn new tricks and join the Tumblr community in full force at some point in the near future?

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: "Being Pandora"**

"You are stunning," Ephraim Brand murmured as he settled next to Audrey in the back of his limousine.

"Thank you. The dress is lovely."

"It's not the dress but the beauty wearing the dress."

She said nothing in response. What was there to say? She could compliment him on his appearance—Brand was certainly a very attractive man—but that seemed ill advised. Giving him the wrong impression, that she was somehow a willing participant in this charade, would hardly help to set boundaries. But she would have to be dead not to notice how his suit jacket fit to perfection over his broad shoulders. Or how his very demeanor exuded an odd charisma that, against her better judgment, she found fascinating. Or that he smelled just delicious, a tantalizing combination of clean and earthy and…

She took a deep breath. Was this the same man she saw in her vision? Had this man been her lover at some point in the past?

His eyes sought hers, an unspoken question lingering between them. Audrey was the first to look away, suddenly acutely interested in her surroundings. Or at least, that's how she hoped it seemed to him.

Think about the car, not the man.

Audrey had never been in a limousine before, though she did have a friend in college whose family owned a limousine service. Her friend had aggressively tried to steer her to the back of one with the result being a black eye for him. There went _that_ friendship.

In this particular vehicle, attention had been paid to detail, she noticed, from the glossy wood trim (Was that Brazilian cherry?), to the plush leather seats that felt supple against her back. Everything was streamlined, spotless.

Strangely, it was not nearly as comfortable as riding in the worn passenger seat in the Bronco, though that may have had more to do with the company.

"Would you care for a glass of wine?" Brand asked, indicating a bottle on ice.

"No." Be sociable. _Be sociable_. But she needed her wits about her. "No, thank you," she amended. "Maybe with dinner, though."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." And his eyes were on her again. In the ambient lighting of the vehicle, they appeared darker, but they betrayed nothing. That was one of the challenges of investigating Ephraim Brand, Audrey decided. The man revealed very little through his reactions unless it was something he wanted to reveal. "Were the necklace and earrings not to your liking?"

Without conscious thought, Audrey ran her fingers across her neck, which remained bare of jewelry and, thankfully, bare of love bites.

_Nathan_. What was he doing right now? Probably climbing the walls. Earlier when they had been kissing, she suspected he was trying to leave his mark on her to ward off Brand. As it turned out, he hadn't left any outward marks, only an indelible impression. If circumstances and timing had been different, she suspected she would've been tangled with him in bed right now. As it was, she was eager to go away with him.

The hint of a smile formed on her lips at the thought, but she quickly tried to push aside thoughts of Nathan Wuornos. "The jewelry was too much."

"Too much?" Brand's confusion was evident in his tone. Yet Audrey had the impression that his puzzlement was crafted for her benefit.

"I'm not in the habit of accepting expensive gifts from men I barely know."

"Money," Brand scoffed. "I do not wish to be indelicate, but the jewelry I gifted you is comparable to someone buying a candy bar at the grocer's. The cost is negligible in the grand scheme of things."

"Maybe, but jewelry is personal and not to be doled out like candy."

Ephraim broke out into a broad smile. "I find myself liking you more and more, Audrey Parker. So it seems I cannot impress you with material wealth. What _would_ impress you?"

"Answers." She felt emboldened as she stopped with the pretense.

"To your burning questions, yes."

"Are there any other kinds of questions?"

"Not in my experience," he replied with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"You obviously know far more than you say."

"Only a fool doesn't." Brand poured himself a glass of wine. "Sure I can't tempt you?"

"I'm sure."

"Very well. Answers. We should at least make this conversational rather than an interrogation." Brand took a sip of wine and seemed to consider its taste before saying, "After all, we are friends, are we not, Audrey?"

"Acquaintances," Audrey replied drily. "Whether we'll become friends remains to be seen."

"I have the feeling that you and I will become great friends. I very much want to be."

"Why?"

"My, but you are blunt."

"I've heard."

"Relax. Who knows? You may even enjoy my company."

Audrey took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. At this rate, you're not going to enjoy mine. It's important for me to know about Lucy, and I'm letting that eagerness make me a lousy guest."

"I want you to be comfortable with me, Audrey." He spun the stem of his wineglass between his thumb and forefinger, and looked down almost sheepishly. "I'm quite taken with you, and I fear I've used the wrong approach in showing my interest."

"What? You mean blackmail isn't the key to a girl's heart?" Her words were spoken lightly, but the truth behind them was clear all the same.

"Blackmail was not my intent. I was aiming for roguish. Dashing." He shook his head ruefully. "Obviously, I missed the mark." Ephraim pressed a button next to him and the partition separating the chauffeur from the passengers slid down. "Frederick, a change in plans. Ms. Parker and I will not be going to the Rouen tonight. We'll be dining at Thelma's on Route 7 outside of Derry."

"Yes, Mr. Brand," replied the driver.

"Thelma's?" Audrey asked looking to Brand.

"I want you to be comfortable with me, Audrey. So we're going to get comfort food."

* * *

Duke pulled out a glass from under the bar and poured himself a shot. Nathan watched wordlessly as Duke washed down his information with alcohol. _There's some benefit to having your own bar_, Nathan decided, though in his experience, he had rarely seen Duke overindulge. Now as the smuggler-bartender downed the shot in one gulp and then refilled the glass, Nathan realized just how much Vanessa's dying words had shaken the other man. Even Duke's expression was different. His eyes shone a bit brighter, though whether it was from the alcohol or the sudden awareness of what Nathan was telling him remained unclear.

"You talked with Charlie Thornhill about his tattoo? While you were at it, you didn't happen to ask him if he planned to kill me, did you?" Duke set the bottle of vodka on the bar with more force than he had intended.

"Charlie is freaked out about the tattoo."

"Buyer's remorse. Great. That doesn't solve my little problem that someone with the tattoo is going to kill me."

"He didn't have the tattoo inked." Nathan lowered his voice. "It appeared."

Duke didn't look particularly satisfied with this new information. "Appeared? As in, poof, it's suddenly there? I'll have to remember that excuse next time you sic the Coast Guard on me in this never-ending quest for contraband."

"I'm serious, Duke."

"Hold on a second. You're saying that the tattoo just magically showed up. That's great. Just great." Duke paused and his eyebrows shot up. "So you believe him?"

"Sounds crazy."

Duke thought back to the man he saw at the hospital, the man who seemed scared beyond words. Charlie Thornhill was more lamb, less lion. "Yeah, I believe him, too."

"There's more."

"Isn't there always?" Duke asked.

"The tattoo is a mark associated with the Brand family. Ephraim Brand told Audrey that it dates back to the original Brand."

"So maybe I should be having a little conversation with Ephraim Brand."

"You should steer clear. No business dealings. No 'little conversations'. I just—I thought you should know."

"Well, how about that," Duke replied as he slowly broke out into a grin.

"What?"

"You care."

"I do not. It's less paperwork if you stay alive. Besides, you don't really want Julia autopsying you, do you?"

Duke paused for a beat, to which Nathan groaned.

"Look at it this way. You probably saved Charlie Thornhill's life," Duke admitted. "But what I don't get is why he has the mark."

"Audrey's digging into that, among other things."

"Which explains why she's out with Brand tonight. What that doesn't explain is why you let her go."

"Have you ever tried to stop Audrey from something she was determined to do? Besides, she has other reasons for wanting to speak with Brand."

"Other reasons?"

"He knew Lucy Ripley and is one of the few people around here who will admit to it."

"What _is _Lucy to Audrey? She ever figure that out?"

"She's working on it."

Duke pointed at Nathan. "You know more than you're saying."

"It's up to Audrey what she wants to tell you. Would help if you could tell her more about Lucy, seeing as how you knew her."

"Look I wish for Audrey's sake that I could tell her everything there is to know about Lucy Ripley. But I don't remember Lucy. Not really. Just impressions."

"Why'd you have the necklace?"

"Audrey told you about that?"

Nathan nodded slightly.

"She shares a lot with you." There was almost the sense of resignation in Duke's voice. "About the necklace, I'm not sure."

"Must've been important if she gave it to you," Nathan persisted.

"Or not important. I mean, why give a six-year-old kid something like that?"

"Did Lucy say anything to you about it?"

"Just that she was giving it to me for safekeeping and I'd know what to do with it when the time came."

"Where was this?"

Duke's brows furrowed. "I don't know."

Nathan frowned. "But you knew the necklace was Lucy's and you waited to tell Audrey?"

Duke rolled his eyes. "You saw the Colorado Kid newspaper article. You knew me back then and what I looked like. You could've said something. Why didn't _you_?"

Nathan's frown deepened. As much as he hated to admit it, Duke made a good point. "I don't know. It didn't…it didn't register with me somehow."

"Yeah. Get the feeling we drank the Kool-Aid somewhere along the way and didn't even know it? I don't remember much from that time."

"Me either."

"Of course, there are some things I wish I could forget. It's the same with you, I suppose."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your mom. The way she… Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"I don't remember the day she died." Nathan's words hung between them for a moment before Duke broke the silence.

"Seriously? I..uh…," Duke was momentarily rendered inarticulate.

"Spit it out."

"I…do."

Nathan found himself leaning forward on the bar. "What do you remember?"

Duke hesitated. "You sure you want to hear this?"

Nathan thought a moment and nodded slightly.

"I remember my dad coming home. He had tears in his eyes if you can believe it. I think it was the only time I ever saw the bastard cry. It was late. He said he'd been with your dad at the hospital, and he told me about your mom, that she drowned over at Sandersen's Harbor. That the world is cruel and some places are crueler than others."

"Did he say anything about Lucy?"

Duke was taken aback by Nathan's question. "No."

"I wonder if Lucy and Simon knew each other. I'm pretty sure Lucy knew the Chief, only he still won't fully admit it."

"Maybe he can't."

"Because of this strange memory loss."

"Or something else. It's important for you to learn about Lucy, isn't it?"

"It's important to Audrey."

"Are you in love with her?"

Nathan met Duke's curious gaze. "Told you about the tattoo. That's enough sharing for one night, don't you think?"

"No denial. You know, Nathan, I was joking earlier about you sleeping with Audrey, but I guess it has me curious. Can you…without being able to feel…" Duke voice trailed off, much as Nathan's stare grew colder. "You know, never mind. I don't want to know."

"Good choice. The beauty of not feeling is if I put you in the hospit—" Nathan stopped abruptly.

"-al?" Duke finished for him. "Like to see you try."

But Nathan's mind was racing. "You said that your dad was at the hospital with mine the day my mom died."

"Yeah. So?"

"My mom was never taken to the hospital. She died on the scene. So what was my dad doing there?"

* * *

Thelma's Diner was a small, mom-and-pop style restaurant located on Old State Route 7. Nestled off the road on a gravel lot surrounded by tall pine trees, the wood structure didn't look like much from the outside. Audrey was sure she had never noticed it before. Then again, she didn't go to Derry often, and this wasn't even the most direct route between Derry and Haven. The locals would say, "You can't get there from here."

As the limousine parked outside the establishment, it stuck out in the sea of older model vehicles. Audrey was quite certain she didn't spot a car newer than 1980s models. Early 1980s models, at that. Odd.

Brand was, thankfully, hands off, a perfect gentleman who held the door for her as the entered the eatery. The two were overdressed compared to the other patrons, but Brand seemed to not notice.

The scent of home cooking wafted through the air and made Audrey's stomach do a flip-flop. She was definitely hungry, as she had been hit and miss with meals lately.

An older woman that Audrey guessed to be in her mid-sixties immediately smiled broadly when she saw the two of them.

"How are you, Marisa? Keeping Tom in line?" Ephraim asked the woman.

"It's a full time job," she replied warmly. The plump woman, who wore an apron with _Thelma's Diner_ embroidered across the chest, practically giggled. "I'm so happy to see you. It's been ages! And you brought someone." The silver haired woman looped her arm through Brand's and patted his hand. "She's mighty pretty." Her tone was one of approval.

"I would have to agree. Marisa, this is Audrey Parker. Audrey, Marisa Coomer."

"Pleased to meet you, Audrey Parker," Marisa reached out and squeezed Audrey's hand. "You are the spitting image of someone I used to know."

"I get that a lot. Was her name Lucy?"

"No. I don't think that was it. My mind isn't quite what it used to be," she turned back to Brand, "but this boy, I remember. Is a booth all right tonight?"

"That would be perfect," Brand replied.

He looked back at Audrey, who tried to hide her disappointment that Marisa could not provide more information. Normally Audrey would just think she had one of those faces that seemed familiar, but with Lucy having come before her, she had stopped believing in coincidence.

Marisa led the two to a booth and they settled in. "Here are menus," the older lady said, setting them atop the table. "I'll give you a few minutes to decide. In the meantime, what can I get you to drink?"

"Tea. Earl Grey if you have it," Brand replied.

"Just water is fine," Audrey answered.

As Marisa left, Ephraim said, "I can have Frederick bring in the bottle of wine, if you prefer. I'm sure Marisa wouldn't mind."

"The water is fine," Audrey assured him. "So are you a regular here?" Her eyes surveyed the tidy diner. It was peculiar and familiar all at once, much like the man who sat across from her.

Ephraim loosened his tie. "I try to make it here when I can."

"You are full of surprises. I took you for fancy restaurants with forks I've not even seen before."

"The finer things in life have their benefits, but when you strip away the fineries, the titles, the masks, we are who we are."

"And who are you, Ephraim Brand?"

"The luckiest man in the world right now."

Audrey shook her head with a small smile. If she _had _actually expected a straight answer, she would have been sorely disappointed.

"What? You doubt me?" Ephraim asked. Audrey could hear the mirth in his accented voice.

"You probably say that to all the girls."

"I don't. Sincerely, I don't. You are unlike anyone I've ever known—save one—and I daresay I am unlike anyone you've ever known."

_Lucy._

"Earl Grey for you, Ephraim. Water for you, Audrey. Have you had a chance to decide on your order?" Marisa asked approaching the duo as she set down the beverages.

The words shook Audrey from her thoughts, though her heart raced. It was an opening that quickly closed as Brand turned his attention to the waitress. "I'm sorry. I haven't even looked," Audrey said.

"It's quite all right," the waitress replied.

Audrey tried to be casual, but she halfway wanted to scream in frustration for the woman to go away, that eating could wait for when she was not on the verge of finding out about the woman who had come before her. Instead, Audrey asked, "What's good here?"

"Everything," Marisa guaranteed her.

_Not helpful._

"I like the macaroni and cheese," Ephraim suggested.

Marisa nodded. "That is a good one. The secret's in the deep fried crackers we sprinkle on top."

It sounded like a bowl full of heart attack and strangely tasty.

Brand rattled off his food of choice from the diner. "Fried chicken. Macaroni and cheese. Green beans. Biscuits. All southern style. And all comfort food."

"Okay, you've got me convinced. That sounds really good."

"What about you, Ephraim? The usual?" Marisa asked.

"Yes."

"I'll get those orders right in."

After Marisa left, Audrey turned to Ephraim. "Finding out about Lucy is important to me."

"I know, Audrey. This just isn't…"

And the veneer of joviality slipped, replaced by the briefest glimpse of…was that hurt? Audrey wasn't completely certain she had seen it. Perhaps she was merely projecting?

"It isn't what?"

"Easy. Lucy is…"

"Yes?"

"A bit of a sore subject."

"Why?"

"Because she left. Without a word, without a trace."

"Did you ever find out why?"

"It would've been easier to accept if we had. You look very much like her. Your eyes. Your bone structure. Your lips." He studied her with a quiet intensity, as though seeking answers with his stare. "Are you sure you aren't Lucy?"

"How could I be?" Audrey countered.

"How indeed. It's been…twenty-seven years." The raw emotion slipped behind a mask Brand had perfectly crafted. "So have you been in Haven long?"

"Not that long."

"Long enough to experience the Troubles, though."

"Why do you think I stayed?" Audrey replied wryly.

"And not for the slice of Americana itself that Haven has to offer?"

"I love a good mystery. And Haven has more than enough to keep me occupied. What about you? You're a businessman whose empire spans the globe. How does it happen that _you _find yourself in Haven?"

"I need it," he said simply.

"You need Haven?" Audrey asked incredulously.

"Yes. It is in my blood. My roots are here."

Blood. Coincidence? _Definitely not, _Audrey decided.

"I get the feeling that if we were a few hundred years back, the locals would be grabbing their pitchforks and torches where you're concerned."

"Reputation is a strange beast. When earned, it is a man's calling card. When assumed, it is a noose around the neck."

"Then why _are_ you here?"

"I told you, Audrey. It's in my blood. My heritage. My beginning."

"Your end?"

"Not my end. I won't stay here forever, unless someone worthwhile convinces me otherwise. The world is too big. But I will always come back. Always."

"What do you want?"

"What every man wants."

Audrey's lips curled into a wry smile. "Sex?"

"There is that," Brand admitted. "But the right woman with whom to share my world. A woman who can keep up with me, intellectually, one who is physically desirable. An equal, one who improves upon my solitude. And you? What do you want, Audrey Prudence Parker?"

"You've been checking up on me," she noted upon hearing his use of her middle name.

Brand did not even attempt to deny it. "Of course. Just as you've checked up on me, no doubt."

"I want the same thing I've been wanting all along. Answers."

"They aren't easy to attain. And sometimes a person gets answers only to find more questions."

Audrey raised her eyebrows. "Oh, you know the story of my life."

"You are seeking answers about Lucy Ripley when you should be seeking answers about yourself. Who _you _are."

"It's kind of tough to separate the two right now as long as I have questions. You could make this easier for me."

"I could," he agreed.

"But you won't. You're going to make me work for every scrap of information, aren't you?"

"Not forever." He reached across the table and rested his hand next to hers. His pinky curled around hers, and he waited to see if she would pull away.

Audrey didn't, though she was acutely aware of the strange hold Brand had on her. This felt familiar somehow. Her mouth was dry. She reached for her glass of water with her free hand and took a sip. "I shouldn't let you hold my hand."

"Why? Your partner wouldn't approve?" Brand's teasing tone jarred in Audrey's ears. The man was trying to keep the conversation light, but the intent behind the words was still evident. He was fishing.

"What makes you ask about him?" she asked nonchalantly. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal her feelings for Nathan to Ephraim Brand.

"I've seen the way he looks at you."

"Nathan is a good cop. He notices everything, but he doesn't notice me like that. So speaking of blood, have you experienced any other strange phenomena?"

"Were we speaking of blood?" he asked.

"Indirectly. You said Haven's in your blood."

"So I did. Then no. I've not experienced any other strange phenomena." He lowered his eyes to her lips and lifted them again. "Only a woman of ethereal beauty."

"Do you often date your housekeeper?"

The tilt of Audrey's head and the exaggerated sweet tone she affected had Brand laughing heartily. "Where on earth would you get an idea like that?"

"When I saw you last night at the Grey Gull, you were with Sally Harrington."

"Ms. Harrington is a lovely person, I'm sure, but I most certainly was not with her last night."

"And the woman you _were _with…"

"Surely you didn't accept my invitation to talk about her."

"No, I want to talk about Lucy. Did you know her well?"

A shrill scream pierced the air.

"What in the world?" Audrey muttered pulling away from Brand.

"Please! Somebody help him! He's choking!" The cry for help came from the other side of the restaurant. Audrey slid out of the booth, heading straight for the call. Brand was close on her heels.

A murmur went through the crowd. Several patrons stood, but seemed unwilling to act. Audrey pushed her way through a couple and saw the source of the alarm. A woman knelt on the floor, tears streaming down her face, her hand on the knee of her male companion. The man was coughing and gagging. White chicken feathers littered the table and ground around them.

"I didn't mean it, sweetie. I didn't," the woman sobbed.

Audrey knelt next to the woman, a feat, considering the dress and heels she wore. The woman seemed familiar somehow. She'd seen her before. Maybe at Rosemary's Bakery? "What didn't you mean? What happened here?"

"Steve said I shouldn't have ordered the country fried chicken, that I had gained weight. Eating like that was why. And I…" the woman blubbered, "I…I told him I wished he'd _choke_ on it!"

"Well, you certainly got your wish," Brand replied wryly.

"Not helping," Audrey scolded over her shoulder. She turned her attention back to the hysterical woman. "Listen to me. I need you to calm down. My name's Audrey, and we're going to fix this."

The woman nodded, but a louder sob came from her. Her male companion seemed to gasp all the more for air.

"What's your name?" Audrey asked the woman.

"Ginny."

"Okay, Ginny. I need you to look at me. Have you ever heard of the Troubles?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. So I don't have to explain them to you."

"I'm Troubled?" Ginny faced screwed into a horrified expression. "I'm fat _and_ Troubled!"

"You are not fat," Audrey insisted. "Men sometimes say the most insensitive things. I'm sure if he could take it back, he would." Audrey looked at the woman's companion. "Wouldn't you?" Her pointed remark resulted in the man nodding vehemently even as more white feathers flew from his mouth. "Listen, Ginny, you can control this. Your Trouble doesn't have to control you."

"But how?"

"Make it stop, Ginny. Make up your mind that Steve here can breathe normally. Give him the chance to apologize."

"I c-can't."

"Ginny, there will always be people who hurt you as long as you give them the power," Brand interjected. "But you are an attractive, vital woman, whose curves would drive many a man mad."

Ginny's sobs became less harsh.

"You see, you can do this," Audrey encouraged her, squeezing the other woman's shoulders.

Ginny nodded and took deep, measured breaths. And as she did, Steve's own breathing normalized. The feathers disappeared.

* * *

"You were good at turning on the charm." Audrey rested her hands on her lap. As the limousine began to move, she barely felt the motion as soon as they were off the gravel of the parking lot and back on the road.

Brand rubbed his forehead. "Well, I couldn't very well let the chap suffocate on feathers. It's dreadfully undignified."

"We worked well together."

"_And_ you think I'm charming." The flirtation in his tone was unmistakable.

"You have your moments," Audrey dismissed. "So do you think that relationship will last?"

"If the man cannot appreciate what he has, no."

"What you said about people hurting you only if you give them the power, that was what she needed to hear."

"It was the truth."

"The whole thing kind of makes chicken unappetizing, though. I'm glad Marisa wasn't offended when I cancelled that part of my order."

"You were in your element helping that woman," Ephraim commented. "You say that you stayed in Haven for mystery, but that's not it. You stayed because you want to help people. You help the Troubled. _And_ you're good at it. Just like her."

"Lucy."

"Yes."

"Will you tell me about her?"

"Yes, but there are things I must show you. With your permission, I would like to take you back to my home to answer your questions."

Audrey nodded.

* * *

At night, the Brand Manor House was equally impressive. Spotlights shone upward on the stone structure, giving the impression that it touched the sky itself. Frederick, the chauffeur, opened the door of the limousine. Ephraim climbed out and extended a hand for Audrey, assisting her. It was a chivalrous, albeit unnecessary, gesture. Audrey was accustomed to climbing in and out of Nathan's Bronco, and it provided far more challenges than a relatively low to the ground stretch limo.

The duo entered the manor house and was immediately greeted by Sally Harrington, whose smile faltered when she saw Audrey.

"Ms. Harrington, a kettle of tea, unless you prefer coffee." Ephraim looked to Audrey.

"Tea's fine," Audrey replied, feeling the other woman's eyes bore into her.

"Yes, Mr. Brand," Sally acknowledged and quickly disappeared down the hallway.

Brand walked toward the imposing staircase. "Come with me." He ascended three stairs before he recognized that Audrey was not on his heels.

"Where are we going?" Audrey asked. She stood at the bottom of the staircase and gripped a balustrade with both hands.

"My bedroom. There's something I wish to show you."

"Yeah. That's not going to happen." She began to walk away from the stairs.

Ephraim called after her. Gone was the swagger, the bravado. "I assure you on my honor that I will not accost you. This is about Lucy."

Audrey froze in her tracks. "You've been toying with me the better part of the night."

"This isn't a game. Put your trust in me."

_Easier said than done._

If it had been Nathan asking for her trust, that would be different. He'd proven to her time after time that he was trustworthy. Brand, on the other hand, sent warning signals zipping through her. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was intriguing. But he gave her the impression of a fox.

"You have to start somewhere, sometime," he added.

With reluctance, Audrey walked toward the staircase and caught sight of the painting of Pandora.

* * *

Brand's bedroom was more of a suite than a mere room. A large sitting area was the first thing that met Audrey's eyes when Brand opened the door. The entry to an en suite master bathroom was visible, as was a double-doorway to what Audrey assumed was the bedroom itself. And, of course, the bedroom was the area Ephraim headed toward.

With hands on both door handles, Ephraim pushed open the entry. Audrey followed.

The room was opulent. Curtains hung from floor to ceiling. A bed—larger than even a king-size bed—sat in the middle of the room, its dark wood carved and gleaming. The floors were marble, Audrey guessed, though a thick area rug sat atop it. A massive fireplace dominated one of the walls.

And above it was the portrait of a dark-haired woman. Her hair was piled atop her head, but there was no mistaking the features. Same delicate nose. Same cornflower blue eyes.

Ephraim stood beside Audrey, his hands in his pockets. "Lucy was family. My father's wife."

"Lucy was _married_?" Audrey's voice pitched higher than she intended; her heart pounded in staccatos.

Of course.

_Of course. _

"Fiercely independent. She insisted on keeping her maiden name. I understand it. My father—he was far more old-fashioned than I am—despised that independent streak. He called her Mrs. Brand."

"How is this possible?"

"How else do you think? The two met, fell in love…" His voice trailed off as he watched her alternate between wonder and befuddlement.

"Are you her son?"

"No," Brand laughed, though his laughter quickly died away. "Certainly not. My father loved her beyond reason. When she disappeared, it was a wonder he didn't go mad. It was an excursion into despair."

Audrey moved toward the painting. "Where do you think she went?"

She could feel Brand close the distance between them, his hand on her bare back, his breath against her neck as he leaned down and whispered into her ear, "You tell me."

* * *

To be continued...


	25. Phantom Best Forgotten

**Author's Notes: **Here we are again, dear readers! This is a nice long chapter. I so hope it was worth the wait!

Thanks so much to all of you who continue to read, and a special thanks to those who review. I truly do appreciate the time and thought you put into them.

I'd also like to respond to a few of the guest reviewers who had questions.

**Maria, **you were asking about how often I update. It's basically when I can. Lately, I'm averaging an update every couple of weeks. In the past, my updates have been both more frequent and infrequent. I work full-time teaching in a public school system and part time as a university adjunct instructor, so real life often interferes with my writing time. When I do update, my chapters tend to be long, so you probably should not expect multiple chapters posted at once. I could, theoretically, break up the longer chapters into shorter ones and post more often, but I probably will not do that, as I do not want the story to seem choppy and I have the expectation that I have to accomplish something with each chapter. I am planning roughly 35 chapters altogether. As for another multi-chapter fic after _Phoenix Rising_, we'll see. I need to finish this one and see if there's any story left in me. LOL. In the meantime, you might check out _Tomorrow's Child_. It's a multi-part Naudrey story I wrote awhile back and it is complete.

To **Guest** who inquired about "Lonely Road", I don't think I will be revisiting that one. I would never say never, but the plan I had for it just seems very, very wrong after seeing the events of season 3 unfold. I agree that there is more story to be told there, but at the same time, Nathan and Audrey ended on an upbeat note in that one.

To **Anon** who asked if there was anything the readers can do to make me update more frequently, I just wanted to say that I truly do appreciate the words of encouragement you guys give me. I just have a very busy schedule, and to top it off, I agonize over my writing. I'm never fully satisfied with it, so I tend to move at a snail's pace. With that said, the reviews and PMs do remind me that there is a readership out there waiting, and that helps me get my boohindy into gear. :)

And to **Guest** who wanted an update on Valentine's Day. So sorry! I was spending it with my sweet Valentine. That-and the chapter just wasn't where I wanted it to be yet.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five: "Phantom Best Forgotten"**

"No, I'm not doing this." Audrey stepped away from Brand's touch and turned to face him. "This cat and mouse game is getting old. How about you answer some questions for me for a change?"

"Cat and mouse game? Is _that _what we're doing?" His eyes gleamed with humor and admiration, as though he appreciated her gumption. Ephraim took a step closer, increasingly drawn to her.

Audrey found herself more annoyed than startled. "Don't." She held him at arm's length, her hand pressed against his chest.

Ephraim's eyes traveled down to her hand, which made Audrey all the more aware of how intimate the gesture was, though it was hardly intentional. The focus of his green eyes moved from her hand to her eyes. "Your partner, he feels nothing. That's tragic for a man."

Audrey bristled. "You keep bringing him up. What does Detective Wuornos have to do with anything?"

She recognized no sinister undertone to the man's voice, but she also knew that ill intent wasn't always punctuated by evil cackles or sharp fangs. From the first day they spoke, Brand dug for information regarding her relationship with Nathan. Even tonight, this was the second time Brand mentioned him. And then there was the small matter that Nathan could easily have been killed at the Brand Estate only a few days earlier, and this man, whoever, _whatever_ he was, did not play by the same rules as everyone around him. No, Ephraim Brand was somehow part of her past. That was something Audrey could not control, but she'd be damned if she invited him into all aspects of her life now.

Nathan was off limits.

"He feels nothing," Brand repeated, "except he does feel you. Am I right? Your touch brings all of those nerve endings of his back to life."

_How could he know that?_ Her mind raced, but she was determined to keep her focus. "We weren't talking about him. We were talking about Lucy."

"You have a preternatural perception, don't you, Audrey? You see things that others don't. You are unaffected by the things that affect those around you. The Troubles." Brand looked up at the painting of the dark-haired version of the woman standing with him. He covered her hand with his own, suddenly igniting Audrey's awareness that she had allowed it to linger against him. Strange. Why would she do that? And as Ephraim closed the distance between them, she halfway wondered if her will had been paralyzed. All she needed to do was move. Move. _Move_! And yet her hand remained firmly under his. She could feel his heart beating, or was that her own heart?

Ephraim continued. "Lucy was unaffected, too. So, yes, we _are_ talking about her. You say you are looking for your connection to Lucy, but I suspect you already know what that connection is."

"Enough." Her voice came out breathy and sounded strange to her own ears.

"You wanted answers. I'm trying to give them to you."

Suddenly it was so obvious. She couldn't believe she had questioned Nathan for suggesting it. "You're the original Ephraim Brand."

The corners of his mouth turned slightly. "More or less."

"How?" A simple question with, she assumed, a complex answer.

Or no answer at all.

Brand surveyed her with cool eyes. "You hardly even blinked at the notion."

"I've seen stranger things than a 300 year old man. _Tonight_," she countered, her tone almost nonchalant, though she struggled to absorb the information that seemed to be pouring now rather than trickling.

"The chicken feathers were certainly impressive." Brand stepped away from her and sat on the edge of the bed, and Audrey was grateful for the breathing room. "But even you must admit I am far more impressive than that. You and I are very much the same. It seems we both have unanswered questions about our true natures." He removed his cuff links and set them on the nightstand.

Audrey watched him with great curiosity, though this entire encounter left her absolutely drained. "Look, I know who I am, and it's not Lucy Ripley. Not…not anymore."

"Perhaps not," he conceded as he tugged at his tie, loosening it before finally removing it. "I want to show you something. Maybe you can help me."

"Show and tell. How fun."

Ephraim began to unbutton his shirt. "Your sarcasm is new. Lucy was so earnest. She was clever, as you are, but she never said a word she didn't mean." He slid the shirt over his muscular shoulders and down his arms.

"And this concludes the striptease portion of tonight's entertainment," Audrey muttered heading toward the doors across the room. Her hands pulled on the handles, but the doors would not budge. "Seriously?" She played off her reaction as aggravation, but for the first time, she began to feel genuine alarm seep into her.

Within a few seconds, Brand was by her side. She wondered which of them would be faster if it came to it: her with the tiny gun she had strapped onto her thigh per Nathan's request, or Brand. As it turned out, it was a moot point. He barely acknowledged her proximity and did not touch her as his hands went to the knobs. Audrey's eyes flickered to his defined chest and abdomen, and then she looked away. Yes, this was definitely the man in her vision of Lucy.

Ephraim shook his head slightly. "I wouldn't keep you here against your will. There's a trick to the doors." With that, he held the knobs down before pulling them back up. Audrey heard the latch disengage.

He turned his back to her and walked toward the fireplace. Audrey began to go through the open doors, but his words came back to her. "_Maybe you can help me." _What was that supposed to mean?

She rolled her eyes. _I hope I don't regret this_, she thought to herself before turning to look. His back was well muscled, giving the impression that he had, indeed, endured a life of physical labor, despite his obvious wealth. Yet what stood out more than his broad shoulders and trim waist was the scar of the brand that had been seared into his skin so many years ago. _Show and tell, indeed._

Wordlessly, she left the doors ajar and trailed after him, determined to get a better look. She extended her hand, and then pulled back. "May I?" she asked hesitantly.

"You've done far more with me in the past."

Audrey blushed despite herself. She didn't feel like Lucy. She could barely relate to her. "Behave."

She traced the slightly raised scar tissue of the brand and followed the maze pattern. She was surprised by the feel of him, the warmth of his body, the spark, akin to static electricity, that seemed to come off him in waves. Finally, she pressed the palm of her hand flat against him. "The mark…it's _warmer _than the rest of your skin."

He hissed slightly. "It burns."

Audrey withdrew her touch. "It hurts? After all these years."

"A little."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It simply does from time to time. The burning is alleviated when you touch it, at least temporarily." With those words, Audrey pressed her hand against his mark again. After a moment, he said with almost a sigh, "Thank you."

"300 years." Audrey stepped back from him and crossed her arms. "You should be gone. Or at least looking like the Crypt Keeper."

He shot her a puzzled look, oblivious to the reference. "358 years to be precise, though birthdays have lost their luster. And you're right. I should be gone. I have lived many lifetimes. I have seen friends, loved ones, grow old, fade, until they are nothing but murmurs borne on the wind." The façade slipped, and she could hear the turmoil, see the flashes of pain in the tenseness of his jaw line. "When you vanished, I wanted to do the same."

"Why didn't you just tell me who you are?"

"And say what exactly? Would you have been receptive if I had revealed myself to be your husband? Should I have told you on the sidewalk outside the newspaper office? Or perhaps while you were tending to your wounded partner?"

"No."

"Are you receptive now?"

"No," she repeated.

"But I am your husband."

"You were Lucy's husband, not mine."

"But somehow, you are Lucy. If I were a betting man, I would say you have the same freckle right here," he pressed his hand against his own abdomen, just below his belly button, as a demonstration, "the same freckle that _she_ had. If you did not feel some connection, you wouldn't be here."

"Curiosity isn't a connection." Her words sounded so tidy, almost cruel, in her own ears. Audrey stepped back. "Look, I should go. It's late and I need…"

"To process everything. I understand. I've had longer to get over the shock of seeing you again."

Long enough to play games. For all Audrey knew, he was _still_ playing games. "I don't remember you, but I do remember a lifetime of being Audrey Parker. I had a childhood. Have you had _multiple_ childhoods?"

He shook his head. "No. My references to my ancestors, this reintroduction as my own son or grandson, it's all to avoid the pitchforks and torches you mentioned. I've been this way many, many years."

"Yeah. That explanation is wearing thin with the people in Haven," Audrey replied. "So what are you? And if you tell me a vampire, I will absolutely stake you."

His teeth grazed his lips, showing themselves to be mostly straight and decidedly lacking sharpness. "A man. I'm just a man."

With that, he touched her face. His hand was gentle, warm. "Just a man who loved a woman beyond reason. Please remember." He leaned down, his forehead against hers, his lips mere inches from hers. She could breathe his breath. "Remember me," he whispered.

"Don't. Please don't." She pulled back. "I can't be Lucy for you."

With that, she turned and walked away.

* * *

Once outside his suite, Audrey stood atop the stairs. Sally Harrington was at the bottom, silver service tray in hand. Audrey squared her shoulders as she descended the steps.

"Leaving so soon?" Sally asked. Her statement was nearly a triumphant gloat.

"It's getting late," Audrey replied blandly as she walked past the housekeeper.

"You saw the portrait."

Audrey froze in her tracks upon hearing the other woman.

"I saw it. Can't say it was the most shocking thing ever." The glibness of her words provoked a strong reaction from Sally.

"Do you even know what Lucy did?" Sally hissed.

"What she did?" Audrey repeated.

Sally set the tray on a nearby credenza. The cups rattled from the force. "Lucy Ripley was selfish. Wanted what she couldn't have. Didn't appreciate what she _did_ have. People tended to die around her."

Audrey's response came out as a challenge. "Who?"

"My brother, for one."

"I read the file on your brother's death. I'm sorry for your loss, but there was no mention of Lucy Ripley in it."

Sally crossed her arms, looking Audrey up and down with disgust. "Of course not. Garland Wuornos saw to that, I'm sure. He would've done anything for her."

"Okay. I'll bite. What was Garland Wuornos to Lucy?"

"You really don't know?" Sally's eyes narrowed. "I find that hard to believe."

"Tell me. Don't tell me. Not sure you're the most trustworthy source of information anyway."

"And you aren't much of a detective, are you?" Sally shot back. "Garland and Lucy were lovers."

Sally's words hit Audrey like an invisible wall, hard and unexpected. "Chief Wuornos had a wife and son at home back then. He's an honorable man. I don't think he would betray his family, and I don't think Lucy would, either."

"You should know by now that people are rarely what they seem on the surface."

"You'd know about that, wouldn't you, Sally? What did you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"To make others see you as a young woman instead of what you are?"

The other woman's face blanched.

* * *

As Nathan stood on the front porch of his childhood home, hands in pockets, he began to second-guess this visit. The lines of communication between his dad and himself had never been easy, but lately it seemed as though they could argue about anything, even the weather or time of the day. Maybe it would have been better to let the conversation wait until the next day or until he returned from Ohio with Audrey, but Duke's recollection of the day his mom died gnawed at Nathan. What was his father doing at the hospital?

"Nathan. It's late." The older man ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair when he opened the door and saw his son standing on the other side.

"Going to give me a lecture about being up past my bedtime?" Nathan asked. "Or are you going to invite me in?"

Garland Wuornos stepped. "It's your home, too."

But both men knew that wasn't really the case. Nathan moved out when he went to college and never looked back. Those holidays when he felt obligated to return to town were awkwardly hellish and spent trying to avoid his dad. When he moved back to Haven after his college graduation, he secured an apartment while house hunting, against his father's advice. If memory served him correctly, Garland Wuornos's words had gone something like, "It's a damn fool who throws away good money after bad." And Nathan had pretty much ignored him after he had a few of his own choice words, of course.

Walking into the house felt like walking back in time. It seemed permanently frozen in the early-1980s. The décor was as Nathan remembered as a child. Homey back then, never particularly stylish. Now it seemed worn and faded. The one concession to modernity was the big screen TV his dad had purchased at some point in the not-too-distant past. It was the first Nathan had seen of it.

The mantle of the fireplace still housed photos. One identical to the photo on Nathan's own mantle—a picture of his mom and himself as a little boy. A wedding photo of Garland and Holly Wuornos. A senior picture of a smiling Nathan clad in a tuxedo. And one more recent—Nathan in his Haven PD dress uniform alongside a similarly dressed Garland, neither man looking particularly comfortable.

"Can I get you a beer?"

Nathan's automatic reaction was to say no. He had to catch himself, remind himself to play nice. "Sure."

His dad disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with two long-neck bottles.

"You watching a game tonight?" Nathan looked at the muted television.

"Between catnaps." The elder Wuornos handed his son a beer and sat in his recliner.

"You're doing what Grandpa Wuornos used to always do." Nathan sat on the couch, sinking into it too far, he thought, though he couldn't feel it. He could, however, smell the stale smoke in the fabric.

"You get to be my age, you'll do the same," Garland replied. "You're looking better than last I saw you. Healing okay?"

"Feel like a million bucks." With that, Nathan took a drink. It wasn't often the two had a drink together.

"Humor your old man."

"Could use a couple days off."

"Yep. Saw you put in the request earlier today. Is that why you're here?"

"No. I was thinking about Mom. Got a little nostalgic, I guess."

"Nostalgic?" The word came out mildly patronizing. "You are your mother's son."

Nathan stiffened upon hearing the accusatory tone of his father's voice. "And you're not nostalgic? Place is practically frozen in time from when she left."

"She didn't leave. She died. But there's no sense in replacing everything when it's perfectly fine. It's called practicality. Maybe you should try to get a little of it."

"I didn't come here to argue with you. I was actually hoping you'd—"

"I'd what?"

Nathan looked squarely at his father. "Tell me about her."

Garland was dumbstruck. He had been gearing up for a fight; this was the last thing he'd expected. He finally found his words again. "What do you remember?"

Nathan eyed the ashtray. "Her telling you to put out your cigarette."

"Eh. Tough habit to kick."

"I also remember her laughter. Her singing."

At that, Garland's broke into a crinkled smile. "She would make up these silly songs. She'd use 'em to get you to eat your vegetables when all you'd want were those damn pancakes." Garland shook his head. "You still want pancakes."

"Best food ever."

"That's debatable. Your mom used to make these lobster cakes. Now those were good. Melt in your mouth good. No one's can compare to hers."

"I don't like lobster."

"These, you would've liked." Garland took a swig from his bottle. His smile had faded. "You were so young when she died. Too young to lose her."

"I don't remember much. I can't hear her voice anymore. And I still don't remember those days surrounding her death. A sign of weakness, I guess."

"Says who?"

"Says you," Nathan shot back.

"I never said that."

"Yes, you did. More than once."

Garland scoffed. "You're imagining things."

"Didn't know we were rewriting history tonight."

"You come here to fight? Is that it?"

"No. Just…thinking. Was Mom Troubled? Could she feel?"

Garland reached for his pack of cigarettes, ignoring Nathan's look of disapproval. "Why would you ask that?"

"Troubles seem to run in families. The Caldwells. The Garricks."

"No. Your mother wasn't Troubled."

"Neither are you, but I am. Emotions seem to trigger the Troubles. I noticed my condition after she died."

The gray haired man felt in his shirt pocket for a lighter, finding none. He glanced around at the end table, finally spotting a cheap Bic. "Nathan, you should leave it alone. Maybe there's a reason you don't remember those days. Maybe it's for the best."

"Why were you at the hospital?" Nathan persisted.

"Because my son got himself attacked by a mountain lion."

"On the day Mom died," Nathan clarified.

Garland took a drag of the cigarette. "Look, she deserved better than me back then, and she deserves better than this now. I'm not doing this with you. If this is about Audrey—"

"It's not, and you're deflecting."

"I'm talking to you, aren't I? How's that deflecting?"

Nathan's gaze fell on the photo of himself and his mother on the mantle. "I need to know something. Am I the little boy Lucy Ripley saved from drowning? Did Mom's death have anything to do with me?"

"We've been through this."

"No, we've been around this."

"Fine. You want me to say it, then I'll say it again. There was no drowning boy. If there was no drowning boy, there could be no drowning boy saved. We through with this little trip down memory lane?"

"Why were you at the hospital?"

"I guess we're not," he muttered. "Your mom was taken there."

"She was a drowning vic. Pronounced dead on the scene, from everything I've heard. That wouldn't have been standard procedure."

"She got special consideration. EMTs were friends of mine. And you need to let this go. There's nothing here, and it won't bring her back."

"No, it won't."

"Glad we agree on something."

"That's about the only thing. Lucy—"

Garland looked up at the ceiling. "Here we go again."

"Why is everything such a damn secret around here?" Nathan demanded.

"Fine. You want me to say it? I knew Lucy Ripley. So did a lot of other people. And no, I didn't tell Audrey because it has nothing to do with her."

"Nothing to do with her?" Nathan asked incredulously.

"Nothing to do with her," Garland repeated. "Audrey's her own person. Lucy Ripley wasn't her mother, so that's it."

"How did you know Lucy?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Hell no."

"Fine. Lucy Ripley was a pain in my ass. She poked around crime scenes, generally making a nuisance of herself. My chief tolerated her for some reason, put me on babysitting duty to keep her out of the way. She was driven to help the Troubled, had a knack for it, though I would never tell her that. She worked with me on a few _special_ cases, and then she left town. Last I saw of her."

Nathan gripped his bottle tightly without realizing it. "Did the Troubles end then?"

"No."

His father's recitation was so matter-of-fact, innocuous. There was no way that was the whole story, but it was something. "Was that so hard?"

But a few minutes later as Nathan left his father's house, he didn't see the cracks form in the wall of the outdated 1980's era living room.

* * *

"Are you okay, Mr. Brand?" Sally hesitated at the doorway of the bedroom, staring at the figure of the man standing in front of the fireplace gazing at the painting hanging above it. "I saw Audrey Parker leave."

"I'm fine, Ms. Harrington. You may leave the tea on the table."

Sally set the silver serving tray on the table near the entry but hesitated to leave. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Ephraim?"

"We're on a first name basis now?"

"I…I thought…after last night."

"You forget yourself."

"I-I'm sorry." She turned to leave.

"Wait." His deep voice halted her retreat and filled her with hope, hope that was quickly dashed when he added, "How did she seem to you?" Ephraim asked studying Sally's reaction.

"In a hurry," Sally replied evenly. "I take it she knows."

"Yes."

"And she left again." As soon as the words slipped from her mouth, Sally wished she could undo them. She braced herself for a bout of temper, but Mr. Brand remained strangely calm.

"I didn't expect her to stay. Not yet. She identifies with her new persona. That brings complications."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Remind her."

* * *

"Hey. Nathan. Just wanted to let you know I'm home and I'm…I'm fine. I guess I'll see you in the morning." Audrey clicked the END button on her phone, cutting off the voicemail she left for him.

Where was he?

No matter. She wouldn't be good company anyway.

Audrey dropped the phone onto the bed and sank onto the floor, her back against the furniture, and drew her legs to her chest. The dress she had worn earlier lay in a heap next to her, replaced by yoga pants and an oversized UMaine sweatshirt.

She lifted the shirt to her nose, sniffed it, and sighed. It smelled like Nathan.

The lump in her throat and her blurry vision gave way to the sob that finally escaped from her. She hated crying, hated the loss of control. That was likely ingrained from her childhood. When the other children in the orphanage cried, Audrey remembered the nuns' attempts to comfort included Bible verses and guilt. Sister Agatha, in particular, would remind the child that he or she was so fortunate to have a warm bed in which to sleep, meals, and the opportunity for an education. Crying was a waste of energy, and worse, a sign of ingratitude.

Audrey loathed the lecturing, and she quickly learned to associate crying with weakness.

And in this moment, she felt incredibly, almost irrevocably, weak.

She wanted answers, she did, but it never occurred to her that Lucy had been married. In some small way, she always measured Lucy's experiences against her own. She wasn't married, so Lucy must not have been either. Stupid. _Stupid_. Why could she see the truth about so many others, solve cases, help with Troubles, but she couldn't help herself, couldn't see those things that had been staring _her _in the face?

She had told Ephraim that she wasn't Lucy, but what was it that made her different from Lucy? Despite everything—a general wariness toward Brand and her feelings for Nathan—she _had_ felt the slightest pull toward the man. Was it what was left of Lucy trying to break itself free? Was it something else, something perpetrated by Ephraim Brand himself? She had witnessed Charlie Thornhill's absolute terror where Ephraim Brand was concerned. Had Brand been screwing with _her_ mind?

Even if he had been, that didn't erase the fact that Lucy had been married. Married! And she evidently disappeared as a married woman.

But where did Garland Wuornos fit into all of it? Her thoughts warred within, twisting her stomach into knots. If she had to rely solely on Sally Harrington's word, she wouldn't stake her bets on an inappropriate relationship between Garland and Lucy. However, the Chief's propensity for stonewalling her certainly had her considering that perhaps there was some credence to what Sally suggested. The chief obviously had something to hide; was it an affair?

_Nathan. _

How would he react when he found out the truth of her past? That at best, Lucy Ripley was a married woman. At worst, Lucy Ripley was a married woman who had an affair with Nathan's dad and somehow contributed to the death of Nathan's mom.

And what of Ephraim Brand? A man who lived for more than 300 years? The strangeness happening around Haven—could that be linked to him? And the brand, the fact that it still burned…

She was tired. So tired. Emotionally, physically, exhausted.

When she heard the knock on her door, she thought it was her imagination at first. But there it was again.

"Parker? You in there?"

Nathan.

Audrey wiped her tears on the sleeve of the UMaine sweatshirt. The redness and puffiness she couldn't wipe away, though.

As soon as she opened the door, Nathan noticed that she had been crying. "What happened? Did Brand hurt you?"

Audrey noted Nathan's clenched fists, the harshness of deep his voice when he spat out Brand's name.

Did Brand hurt her?

Yes.

His truths. His lies. It hurt all the same.

And she had the sinking feeling that one way or the other, he would continue to hurt her.

But Nathan's protective stance that she had seen dozens of times gave her the momentary hope that things would be okay as long as he was there with her.

"I'm fine." She stood aside.

Nathan entered the room, closed the door behind him, and looked at her doubtfully. Between the hoarseness of her voice, her watery eyes, and pink nose, he knew better. "You don't have to put up a front. Not with me."

"I know." Tears slid down her cheeks despite her best efforts to keep them at bay. She was weak. "Nathan." Without another word, she rushed into his arms, causing him to stagger back against the closed door. His arms wrapped around her small body, holding her close. It was his hands she wanted on her body, not Brand's.

"It's okay. Whatever it is, we'll get through it," he soothed her, his voice a husky whisper.

She looked up at him. She needed him. Plain and simple. Nathan knew _her._ He believed in Audrey Parker, not some phantom from the past. This man, _this man_ was the one she chose. He was solid. Real. Flesh and blood and bone and decent and steady and thoughtful and straightforward and–

She needed him to know the truth. "Can we go somewhere?"

* * *

Sometime later, the two sat on the park bench overlooking Wapék Bay. It was the same place they'd sat when Nathan told her how he first knew he was Troubled as a boy and finally admitted the Troubles were back. Now, though, the bright sunshine of that early summer day was replaced by the inky black of night. Moonlight shimmered off the ocean water, and the sound of the surf on the rocks sounded steady and sure, in direct contrast with how Audrey felt.

"You warm enough?" Nathan asked. Not that he could feel the temperature of the air, but the wisps of cold breath as he spoke provided tangible evidence of the cool temperature.

"I think I'm just numb." Her words slipped out, and she immediately grimaced. "Sorry. Poor choice of words."

"It's fine, Parker," Nathan assured her.

She remained silent.

"But you're not," he added.

"You know that expression, 'Be careful what you wish for'? I think I could be the new poster child."

"You get some answers?"

Audrey nodded. "Not the ones I wanted."

"I shouldn't have let you go over there tonight."

Regret tinged his words, and Audrey wanted to put that to rest immediately. For as much as Nathan might want to protect her, she made her own choices—both good and bad.

"You couldn't have stopped me. I ran full force into _that._"

"What happened? Brand do something?"

"Brand didn't do anything. Not really. I mean he dangled a carrot on a string for most of the night. He would allude to Lucy but not give any concrete details." Audrey looked ahead, her gazed fixed on the water, but she could easily imagine the grim set of Nathan's mouth and feel his anger on her behalf simmering beneath the surface. "But after dinner, we went back to the estate, and he showed me a painting of Lucy."

"He had a painting of Lucy?"

"Yeah. I'm starting to hate art." She was only half joking. "Brand said…" Audrey trailed off and then took a deep breath. "He said that Lucy was married."

She dared to look at Nathan, uncertain of what to expect. She found compassion, both in his expression and in his next gesture. He took her hands between his, warming them. "That's surprising," he admitted. "But it's not. Lucy had a whole life of her own."

Audrey's eyes widened. "I never—I never let my mind go there. What's wrong with me? What kind of detective am I?"

"Best I've ever known."

Audrey shook her head. "No. I'm a mess. I have no right to even wear my badge."

"Don't. Audrey, your intuition is—look, you have this way of solving cases and helping the Troubled that makes the rest of us look like Barney Fife."

"I should've seen this coming," she countered.

"Sometimes it's easier to see things in other people than it is to see in ourselves."

Nathan's words rang true, but she couldn't help but think she shouldn't have been so blindsided. "I don't feel like Lucy. She's a picture from the newspaper to me, a mystery, but she doesn't even seem real."

"What's her connection to the Brands?" Nathan shook his head slightly. Of course, he already knew one connection Lucy Ripley had with the Brand family, if Audrey's flashback to Lucy was any indication. He amended his question. "Did Ephraim claim she was married to his father?"

"At first. But when I asked him point-blank if he was the original Ephraim Brand, he admitted it. Lucy was married to him. _I _was married to him."

She waited for him to comment, to be repulsed, even. Instead, Nathan went into detective mode himself. A defense mechanism, to be sure. "That would put him at 300-odd years old." His voice was measured, flat.

"Brand said he is 358 years old."

"Maybe that's his Trouble? If it is, the Troubles have been around a lot longer than we knew."

Audrey thought for a moment. "I don't think it's a Trouble. I think it's just the way he is. When the Troubles go away, so do the afflictions."

"And if it's a Trouble keeping him young, he'd be shriveled up and dead as soon as it went away. Or would've been however many cycles ago."

"I know there's a lot he hasn't told me. I was just so…," she halfway snorted, "freaked out. I'm not sure what I expected, but that wasn't it."

"A lot to take in."

"Yeah." Audrey studied Nathan's stoic expression, wishing, not for the first time, she knew what he was thinking. "I left so many questions unasked."

"There'll be chances to ask them. I have a feeling he's not going anywhere, especially now."

"I'm not sure I even want to know. I halfway think he expected me to fall into his arms."

"Glad you didn't." And there it was, the slight curling of Nathan's lips. Her stomach fluttered. With that one tiny quirk, she felt like despite what she had discovered, they would be okay.

"Eh, I thought about it," she said glibly.

"You did?"

"You are so easy sometimes," she teased.

"When _my_ old lady shows up, I'll remember this."

"Yeah, well, I'm your old lady, 27 going on at least 50. Okay. That sounded creepy even to me." Her smile faded as she recalled Marisa's comment at the diner earlier in the night. The older woman thought she recognized Audrey—but not as Audrey or Lucy. The thought that she had been someone else even before Lucy was a jolt and definitely something she would ask about. "You sure you don't want to run in the other direction?"

"Not in these shoes."

Despite the heaviness she felt, Audrey smiled and was filled with warmth that had been decidedly absent the entire time she had been in the company of Ephraim Brand. Nathan Wuornos wasn't one for flowery words, but they still managed to be exactly what she needed to hear. More than that, his actions said far more.

Audrey wanted to kiss him, to give him the smallest taste of what he had come to mean to her.

She was falling in love with him. But that wasn't nearly enough and not particularly fair, either. Not when her history was being written before her eyes.

"I'm still here, Parker. Not going anywhere, 'cept maybe Ohio. I mean, if you still…"

She nodded. "Yes, I still want to go."

"That's…good." He looked down at their hands, a smile on his lips.

"Do you remember the brand I told you about?"

"The one that Randolph had as a symbol of servitude." It was a statement rather than a question.

Audrey noticed the way Nathan used Brand's birth-name. "Ephraim showed it to me."

"He had his shirt off?"

"Yes, but look, the dress didn't come off until I got home. Alone."

Nathan shook his head. "Sorry. I know you wouldn't willingly…"

"No, I wouldn't."

"So he showed you the brand?"

"He asked for my help." Audrey could only imagine what was going through Nathan's mind, but she had to lay it all on the table. "The brand was warmer than the rest of his skin."

"You were touching him?"

It was the wrong thing to say and the wrong way to bring it up. Audrey realized it immediately, but they couldn't tiptoe around this. Touch was all-important to Nathan, she realized. It meant more to him than it would someone else whose sense of touch was typical. And in all the time she had known him, he had never gone out of his way to use her just so he could feel something. Quite the opposite, in fact. But this wasn't the time for him to be sensitive about it. "You're missing the point. The brand—it's just scar tissue—but it causes him pain even after all these years. It burns."

"That's a shame." But Nathan's tone told Audrey he thought it was anything but. "How were you supposed to help him?"

"When I touched it, the pain eased."

"He asked you to touch it to make his pain go away? You can do that? Fix people?"

But Audrey had barely heard Nathan. Her throat constricted. _She had known what to do._ Without being directly instructed by Ephraim, she had known to ease his pain and how to do it. How was that possible?

_Lucy knew._

"No. You know I can't. I can't even fix myself."

"Lady Cassandra said Lucy saved a little boy," Nathan reminded her quietly.

"And there are no records of that anywhere."

But they both knew that record keeping in Haven was less than reliable.

"So maybe whatever you did is more about Brand and less about you. Maybe it has something to do with how he's alive after all these years," Nathan posited.

"Maybe he's the root cause of the Troubles. He told me tonight he comes back to Haven because it's in his blood."

"Blood. Can't be a coincidence."

"I didn't think so either."

"And with the samples taken from the maple tree and mountain lion being consistent with human blood, makes me wonder if they would match a sample of his."

"You really think any of this can be explained by forensics?"

Nathan shook his head. "No."

"Look, if he is the cause, maybe I can find some way to stop him from hurting any more people. Maybe we can end the Troubles."

"Parker…"

"Don't 'Parker' me. I affect him. Who else is he going to open up to but me?"

"We still don't know why Lucy left," Nathan reminded her. "He could've been abusive in some way, dangerous to her."

"Vince knows so much more about Brand than he's saying. About Lucy, too." Audrey thought back to the day she saw Brand at the _Herald_ and the way the elder Teagues brother so expertly dodged her questions.

"So does the Chief."

Audrey's heart dropped as Sally Harrington's words came rushing back. _"Garland and Lucy were lovers." _

The whole thing felt wrong to her, but what did she really know about Lucy? Just because she, Audrey Parker, couldn't imagine having an affair with Garland Wuornos, that didn't mean Lucy would have qualms about it. That was twenty-seven years ago. He would've been about Nathan's age, less world-weary perhaps.

What if circumstances had been different? What if when she'd arrived (returned?) to town, Nathan had been married? They worked together, grew close, spent more time in each other's company than most married couples, and she was definitely attracted to him physically, intellectually, emotionally. Would she have respected boundaries? She would've liked to think that she would not allow herself to go there, but the way she felt about Nathan now, she simply was not sure what she would do, if she were completely honest with herself. Had Lucy faced a similar dilemma?

_You are so getting ahead of yourself_, she silently scolded herself.

But what did she really know about _herself_?

"Nathan, how well do you think your dad knew Lucy?"

"Lucy helped the Troubled. So did he." He watched as a puff of her breath met the cold night air. "Other than that? I don't know. He sounds bitter where she's concerned, but he's bitter about a lot of things." Nathan moved one of his hands to her face and felt her skin. His touch was tender. Audrey found herself leaning into it, once again grateful that he wasn't running from her. "You're cold. Let me take you home?"

"I don't think I can look at those four walls." She shivered. "Or all those flowers."

"Then I'll take you home with me."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	26. An Officer and a Gentleman

**Author's Notes: **Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews. I've tried to respond to everyone who left a signed review via PM, but let me say it again...thank you from the bottom of my heart!

**Maria,** you were asking if I would ever write a Haven story with 70+ chapters? I don't think I would. This one is getting quite lengthy at 26 (and counting). I hope to have it wrapped up around chapter 35, if I adhere to my outline properly. I do, however, have another story in the works. It's a case-fic, with a HEAVY dose of Naudrey.

Well, dear readers, I agonized over this chapter. I mean, I always tend to agonize over them, but this one nearly did me in (and for no good reason, might I add!). I was trying to find the right balance. Goodness, it's tough to take characters from working partners to romantic partners AND keep them in character. Sigh. I hope I succeeded!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: "An Officer and a Gentleman"**

"How did she seem to you? Do not omit even the most minute detail." Ephraim Brand lifted a snifter to his lips and took a drink of brandy, but his eyes never left his driver, who stood near the door of his office.

The steely gaze of his employer had Frederick McKee shifting from one foot to the other—and silently reprimanding himself for doing so. He'd agreed to this, to work for Brand even though his wife Melanie had been less than thrilled at the idea. He wasn't from Haven and never understood the superstitions surrounding the Brand Estate until he himself stepped foot here and began interacting with the enigmatic owner of the estate. Mr. Brand was a generous, if not intense, employer, however. It was an intensity Frederick had not yet grown accustomed to, particularly in such a folksy town.

"Ms. Parker seemed distracted. Quiet."

Brand considered the other man's words, his eyes narrowing as he tried to envision Audrey on the ride back to her abode. "Did she cry or show any other signs of agitation?"

"There were no tears. At least, not in my presence."

"That's my girl." He smiled, as though at a private joke that Frederick could neither hear nor understand.

"I waited, as you told me to, and watched her room from a discreet vantage point. Just as you suspected, Nathan Wuornos arrived. He entered her room."

Brand's smile faded. "He is staying with her, then, in her room?"

"No. They were inside for only a few minutes but left in his vehicle."

"Did it seem like police business?"

"No," Frederick hesitated, hoping that the adage about shooting the messenger would not apply here. "She was dressed very casually. They walked close to one another. It seemed personal."

"Perhaps it is time to complicate matters. Are you familiar with the Wuornos family?"

"Not particularly. I'm not really from around here. My wife's family, though-"

Brand interrupted. "The Wuornoses, they've been around these parts a long time, nearly as long as my ancestors. They originate from Finland, if memory serves me correctly."

"Your memory is quite impressive, if you don't mind me saying, Sir."

Brand tapped his fingers against the glass he held. "Oh, I never forget anything. Yes, Wuornos. They have a very peculiar family tree, unofficially, of course. A family tree that extends into Shawshank. Perhaps it is time to shake the branches, so to speak."

"The prison?"

"Mmm. Thank you for your help tonight, Frederick. You've been most invaluable."

* * *

The drive to Nathan's house was quiet, nothing but the rattle and hum of the old truck and the occasional bump in the road. He looked over at Audrey a few times, and each time she had her head against the headrest and her eyes closed. He didn't think she was asleep though. Instead she looked like she carried the weight of the world on her slender shoulders.

He wished he could take it all away.

Truth was, he couldn't imagine all she had endured since arriving in Haven. When she first showed him the newspaper clipping of the Colorado Kid's murder scene, she was cautiously optimistic. Finally, this was a tangible link to her past. The story she told of how she used to dream that her mom would show up with a bus and take her and all the other kids from the orphanage revealed his first glimpse of the tender heart beneath the no-nonsense, sometimes abrasive exterior.

He'd been blunt and told her it was best to let that dream go. But she'd hoped. Nathan had seen it every time they got even a crumb of information about Lucy, and Audrey pursued each lead doggedly, until it led her to the truth about her past identity and Lucy's relationship with Ephraim Brand.

What the hell were they going to do about him? Obviously, Audrey wasn't legally married to Brand, but Nathan had a sinking feeling that wouldn't deter the man. He had been playing them like they were his pawns in a game of chess, but what was his endgame? Surely Brand didn't actually believe that he and Audrey would simply pick off where he and Lucy left off. And then there were the questions about Brand's role in what was happening around Haven and had been for many years.

Nathan gripped the steering wheel more tightly but could not feel the leather under his palms. Was it because of Ephraim Brand he couldn't feel? But why could he feel Audrey? Audrey who had been Lucy who had been married to Ephraim Brand. It was enough to give Nathan a headache—if only he could feel it.

When he finally pulled into the driveway of his house, Audrey's eyes popped open. Nathan reached behind the seat and retrieved a bag before exiting the truck.

He quickly unlocked the door of the modest abode and turned on the lights in the living room. Audrey followed him in and watched as he closed the door behind her and locked it.

"What's in the bag?" It was the first she'd spoken in a good twenty minutes.

Nathan thought back to the sparkly bag on her bed at the B&B, glad he wasn't the only one who got curious. Earlier in the day, he had halfway thought she would leap on his back if he tried to look at its contents. He still wondered what Julia could've brought over that had Audrey so wound up and figured it had to be far more exciting than the few things he'd purchased at the drug store earlier in the day for her to keep at his house: a new toothbrush, toothpaste, and shampoo and conditioner.

"Probably less thrilling than whatever was in the bag you wouldn't let me see."

With everything going on, Audrey had forgotten about the gift bag with the lingerie inside. Of course Nathan hadn't, not when she'd made such a big deal about not letting him see.

She thought she would have to pester him or otherwise beg, but he passed the shopping bag over to her.

"Damn my curiosity," she muttered as she looked inside. Once she saw the contents, she smiled. "Living on the wild side?"

"Bought those for you."

"Oh."

"It's not really anything special. I guess I was just thinking ahead. I mean, you were here the other night, and I thought maybe…" his voice trailed off. Was he a presumptuous jackass?

"This is sweet." She recognized the hair care products. "How did you know what kind of shampoo to get?"

"I found the one that smelled like y-your hair." He stammered slightly, and Audrey wasn't sure whether to laugh at his sudden shyness or try to remove his inhibitions.

"That sensitive nose of yours." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his cheek. "Thank you."

"The, uh, the lips are actually one of the more sensitive parts of the body. Even more than noses."

"Nathan Wuornos, are you trying to seduce me with your fun facts?"

"Seduce you? No, I—"

But he didn't have the chance to finish his sentence. Audrey's lips were on his, her kiss light and sweet. "That's too bad," she smirked when she pulled away.

Even if she was teasing him, Nathan was glad to see the spark of humor return to her eyes. Earlier when she had opened the door at the B&B, he'd been so scared of what had happened to her. She had looked haunted, broken, from the slump of her shoulders to the pink nose and watery eyes. Now that he knew, he still was scared. How much could one person take? So to see her smile was everything to him.

"Is it warm enough in here for you?"

"It's fine," Audrey replied, suppressing a yawn. She was hugging herself, an unconscious act; she realized that must have been the reason Nathan asked about the temperature.

"Must be tired."

"A little," she admitted. "It's been a long day. I don't know if I'm ready to go to sleep, though. My mind's racing."

What could he do to help her? There was a reason he was a cop, not a therapist. The right words didn't come easily to him. For that matter, he rarely trusted anyone whose words were flowery. "We could watch a movie, get your mind off things."

She'd love to be able to curl up with him on the couch, no worries in the world. So normal. But Audrey felt anything but normal. It wasn't fair to do this to him. Nathan was a good man, deliciously imperfect but perfect for her. And all she had to offer was a hot mess of a past, a questionable future if her visions were any indication…

_No. Don't. _

There were so many questions she had, so many doubts, but the one doubt she didn't have was how she felt for him. He was her best friend, the one person she absolutely trusted.

And he was infinitely more.

"What would you be doing if I weren't here?"

"Depends. I might read something. Sleep. Watch History Channel. Do a project."

"Decoupage?" The unmistakable glint in Audrey's eyes relieved Nathan. It was good to see that despite everything, she was still the Audrey he...

"I haven't done decoupage in awhile," he countered. "_Other _projects."

"You have a secret hobby you haven't told me about?"

It occurred to Nathan that in many ways, Audrey had become his hobby. Looking for information about her past, fighting the Troubles with her, spending time with her. His house had become a place he came to crash before starting the process all over again.

Not that he would tell her that. That was a lot of pressure to put on someone, which was the last thing he wanted to do, especially with everything she had found out earlier in the night. She had lived a whole other life.

Nathan still hadn't processed it. To him, she would always be Audrey. He knew that somehow she had been someone else years ago. How? He couldn't comprehend. Nor could he fathom how she managed to stay so relatively calm about every single obstacle that had been hurdled before her. She was the strongest person he knew, and she couldn't even see it.

"Not quite," he replied. "So…"

"So."

They stared at each other awkwardly waiting for the other to say something. When neither did, they both laughed, acknowledging their discomfort.

Audrey fingered the cuff of the borrowed sweatshirt she wore. "We're being ridiculous. It doesn't need to be weird between us just because we…I mean, maybe there's this air of expectation that's got us both…?"

_Expectation._ That was one way to put it. Last night, just having him in her small rented room had her ready to cast aside every bit of caution she kept so tightly wound around her like a cloak. A glance from him, a gentle touch, a kiss, and she craved him. Still craved him, actually, if she was being honest with herself. They would have made love if not for her suppressed memory of Lucy and Ephraim making its way to the surface.

Nathan remembered those moments all too well. He had been frustrated with her, with the chief, with himself. _And worried_. She'd torn out of his house and then urged him to her. Push-pull.

If he concentrated, he could still remember her breath against him, warm, sweet; the feel of her skin under his fingertips and against his lips. Softness. Sureness. Her small hands had been unclothing him, but it was her eyes that captivated him.

They were dark blue, stormy with emotion, with desire for him, a reflection of what he himself felt for her. This wasn't casual with them. It wouldn't have been just sex. It would have been…everything.

But it hadn't happened. Which in the grand scheme of things, what was different? Until recently, their bond had been based solely on friendship—and that bond sustained him in ways his relationships in the past never had. She had drawn him from his self-imposed exile.

And it was there. The attraction. The longing. It lingered between them even now.

"Yeah." Nathan licked his lips.

She was certain he had no idea of how that little movement affected her. A man of few words, typically carefully measured actions, but the little flick of his tongue sent her pulse racing.

"Remind me not to ask you to talk our way in or out of a situation," Audrey remarked, trying to deflect the tension she felt coiled in her.

Nathan looked for relief from the tension between them, as well, when he asked, "Do you want something to drink? Could make some swill."

"Decaf?"

"Could be arranged."

Audrey watched as Nathan disappeared into the kitchen, strangely grateful for the distance. It used to be so much easier between them before she started to look at him _that_ way. Now she found herself distracted by the set of his shoulders, the way his muscles moved under his shirt, the curve of his lips, his long fingers. _Get a grip_, she chastised herself. _He's still Nathan and you're still you. _

_Am I still me?_

She may have had questions about her origin while growing up (what kid in her situation wouldn't?), but she had never doubted her identity. She was Audrey Parker. She prided herself on being direct, efficient, and nobody's victim. When others had pitied her—or worse, reminded her in the cruelest way possible that she was an orphan—even then she had scoffed at the designation. She was a free agent, beholden to no one once she hit adulthood.

But she had been someone's wife, and she couldn't remember it. Nothing—save for a few moments of carnal knowledge. Not exactly what she wanted to know. That memory of Ephraim and Lucy felt like an invasion. But obviously Lucy had loved Ephraim Brand enough to marry him. Why not enough to stay?

Her eyes caught the photos on Nathan's mantle. Mother and son. She had seen it before. How happy the two looked, how lovely Holly Wuornos was. Nathan looked like her—Audrey could see it in his eyes, his cheekbones. Audrey studied the smile on the face of the woman long gone.

Had Lucy destroyed their family?

She wished she could remember.

And she was alternately glad she couldn't.

Mindlessly, Audrey wandered down the dark hallway, finding Nathan's home office. It was in there they'd spent hours sifting through theories about what was happening in their town, Lady Cassandra's visions, and—Audrey smiled slightly at the memory—Nathan had practically drunk her under the table. Looking back, she wasn't sure if she had overestimated her ability to hold alcohol or underestimated his.

She felt around the wall near the doorway for a light switch and found one. The room was much as it had appeared the week before. A sturdy desk was situated near the door, the surface mostly clear except for the pile of papers she had picked up from the floor last time they had a brainstorming session. The dry erase board was still there, scrawled over with the questions they had posited on that night when things seemed so much simpler.

Her eyes fell upon them.

Who or what is the source of the troubles?

What do the afflicted have in common?

Who are those with known memory loss? When was the memory loss detected? What commonalities do those people have?

Who seems to know more than they let on?

Is Lady Cassandra a reliable source of information? If so….

Who was the little boy?

Who was the man Lady Cassandra mentioned she saw with Lucy?

Only a week ago. So much had happened, changed, that it seemed more like a lifetime ago.

They were zeroing in on some answers while also forming more questions. After her tête-à-tête with Ephraim, she felt like the answers to some of these questions could be traced straight back to him. Was he at the heart of the Troubles? Why not try to connect it to the incredibly young looking 300+-year-old man? It certainly wouldn't be the craziest theory they'd had.

Brand seemed to know more than he let on—along with, oh, just about everyone she'd met since arriving in Haven.

The afflictions seemed to run in families, but other than that, they varied greatly. They did not seem to strike a particular ethnic or socio-economic group to the exclusion of others. Based on observing Vanessa Stanley and James Garrick's son, the Troubles seemed to be brought on by emotional distress. But did they have any connection to Brand?

And what had triggered Nathan's Trouble in more recent years? Strange how she had never thought of a catalyst in regards to him, in particular, just in the general sense.

"Thought we were going to try to get things off your mind," Nathan commented as he stood in the doorway of the room, watching her. He held two cups of coffee, piping hot from the look of the steam rising off the liquid.

"Eh. You know me and mysteries."

He extended one of the mugs to her. "Looks like you doctored it," Audrey replied when she looked at the contents.

"Thought I'd see if I could make the coffee less swill-like. Added caramel macchiato, I think."

"Sounds good."

"With some vanilla thrown in," Nathan added.

"Okay."

"And some maple syrup."

"You didn't."

"No, stopped at the caramel."

She could smell the sweetness of the caramel mixed with the aroma of the coffee. "Smells good. I never did ask. Did you see Duke tonight?"

Nathan nodded. "Told him about the family marking and to keep his distance from Brand until we know more."

"Sound advice in any circumstance." Audrey lifted the cup to her lips but quickly brought it away. Too warm still. "Better give it another minute or two."

Nathan paused a beat before adding, "He asked me about you. Why you were with Brand. Whether you and I are getting close."

"What did you tell him?"

"Not much. He knows you're…important."

Warmth washed over Audrey, and it had nothing to do with the piping hot cup of coffee she held.

"I think he'll give Brand some distance. For now anyway. Self-preservation has never been a problem for him."

Audrey studied Nathan's expression. The man gave very little away, but there was something else in his eyes. "There's more."

Nathan hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was heap more complications upon her tonight, but he also knew Audrey wasn't going to let it go if he stonewalled her. "We talked about the day my mom died. Duke said something that got me thinking, something I didn't know. It turns out his dad was with my dad at the hospital."

"What would they have been doing there?" Audrey asked. "Unless something's changed, it's not standard procedure to take…" she tried to phrase her statement more delicately than she would have if they weren't speaking of Nathan's mother, "…a deceased person to the hospital."

"Set off red flags for me, too. So I went to see my dad, asked him about it. He said it was a courtesy."

Audrey looked back at the dry erase board and at her own handwriting. _Who was the little boy?_

Nathan was either following her train of thought or her line of vision. "I asked him point blank whether I was the little boy Lucy saved. I don't remember ever having a near-drowning incident, but there are a lot of things I don't remember from that time. And with what happened to my mom…"

"He said you weren't." She knew without asking. If Garland Wuornos had told Nathan he was the little boy, Nathan would be anything but calm as he spoke about it.

"And that there was no drowning boy." Nathan's eyes followed Audrey. She was unsurprised that he had asked his father about it, probably because the thought had occurred to her, as well.

"So it goes back to whether Lady Cassandra is to be believed." Audrey took a sip of her coffee and decided she would have to stop calling it swill. This was good. Of course, it probably had an ungodly amount of creamer in it.

Nathan's hand ran to his bandage, just below his collarbone. He couldn't feel them, but he knew they were there: the three marks from the claws of the mountain lion, marks that coincided with a vision Audrey had when Lady Cassandra touched her. "I think we know the answer to that."

"There are so many secrets in this town, maybe it's something your dad just doesn't know."

"Or he knows and isn't saying." Nathan set aside his coffee on the desk. "I got the impression he knew Lucy well. They worked together on cases. She helped the Troubled like you do."

That was the only part of Lucy that Audrey could relate to. She seemed to instinctively know what to do to help calm a Trouble. Brand said Lucy had been the same.

But had helping the Troubled included helping herself to Holly Wuornos's husband?

"What is it?" Nathan asked, noticing her stricken look.

Audrey hesitated. Was there anything to tell Nathan, or was this just Sally Harrington planting ideas in her mind? Some kind of a twisted joke?

"I'm just tired."

"It's late. We should get you to bed." He closed the distance between them. With one hand, he brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes held his; a jolt passed between them. He began to reach for her waist but caught himself and pulled away. "Sorry. I told myself I wasn't going to add to your load."

"You aren't."

He tilted his head, looking at her like she should reconsider her statement.

She set her coffee next to his. "I'm glad I'm here with you," she reiterated.

"Me, too, Parker. And we'll have time to figure this out."

She reached down, finding his hand, palm against palm. His hand was so much larger than her own, she noted with interest, as their fingers intertwined.

He sucked in a sharp breath. It was a quick reaction, and one that he gained control over in the next breath, but she could still see the effect of her touch in his eyes.

"So…sleeping arrangements."

A few days ago it wouldn't have been any question. Now…

"Guest room is open." Nathan was drawing the line, not that she could blame him, but he didn't look like a man that was happy about it if the set of his jaw was an indication.

She tried to lighten the mood. "You're going to have to start charging admission."

"I'll put it on your tab, along with the sweatshirt you're wearing."

She considered challenging him to take it back from her but refrained. "Okay. Guest room it is. I mean, unless you wanted to—?" She took a deep breath. "I'm being pushy again. I have this thing."

"Thing?"

"About trying to make things happen rather than just letting them happen. One of the many things I have to work on. I'll add that onto my list under discover what's happening here in Haven, find out about my past, discover a fat-free cupcake that doesn't suck, and stop saying embarrassing things to my partner."

Nathan had to smile at that. "I don't want you to be something you're not. I like that you're flawed."

"I'm more than flawed. I'm a mess, and I don't even know who or what I am. How can you like that?"

"Easy. You're the woman I—" He stopped himself. This wasn't how he wanted to do it, how he wanted to tell her. He had never been much for the grand gestures; he always thought a man should show a woman he cared in small, genuine ways, but Audrey made him want to do a lot of things he'd never done before. "I'm not good with words. Never have been." He took a deep breath. "I want to be with you. More than I can say. I just—"

She nodded. "Right. There's a lot we should figure out before we go there—things we should talk over."

He rubbed his thumb against the palm of her hand. "I think you've had a long day, found out a lot that's got you reeling. I don't want you to rush into something you'll regret." His voice was tender, that tone reserved only for her.

"You're right. You know, forget I brought it up. It's late. I think I'm just going to go crash in your guest room and try to put this day behind me." The hallway was dark, but she figured she could remember the way. After all, she'd found her way to the office.

She started away, but he still had her hand and wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

"Parker." His one word stilled her. "I want to have this talk with you. I do. There are a lot of things, actually, I want with you." He cupped her face. "I just…I want to do this right. And I think I'm doing it all wrong."

"You're not. _I _am. I'm not sure whether I'm coming or going."

"And that's why I think it would be better if we don't rush into anything tonight. I want you to be sure this is what you want because it wouldn't be...it wouldn't be casual for me."

"For me, either. You're the only thing in my life I am sure of, Nathan. Anything you asked, I couldn't say no."

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "And that's why I can't ask. Not tonight."

* * *

A few minutes later, Audrey had brushed her teeth, put on the t-shirt Nathan pulled out of a drawer for her to sleep in, and was under the covers in the guest room. She was exhausted, but her mind wouldn't quit.

She had been a complete idiot. _What a sucky ending to a really sucky day_, she thought. What was she trying to prove anyway? Would sleeping with Nathan chase away her demons? Would it make her more real and Lucy less so?

He was right to tell her they should wait. She hated admitting that to herself. Part of her had been reacting to the events of the day rather than acting solely on her desire to be with him. While that desire was definitely there, he deserved more than to just be a band-aid to make her feel better.

Her eyes traced the shadows on the ceiling. When she was a little girl in the orphanage, she shared a room with two other girls, Cindy and Heather. Cindy was plagued by nightmares, to the point that Audrey and Heather both took turns soothing her in the middle of the night. And Cindy would cry over the shadows on the wall and ceiling, convinced that they were moving and after her. It wasn't until Audrey had grown up and come to Haven that she believed in Cindy's fears, namely because she had seen a shadow act on its own volition, take retribution for wrongs done.

But tonight the shadows on the ceiling were thankfully still.

Strange. Audrey hadn't thought about that in ages, but she'd be going back to that place tomorrow, the orphanage where she had spent her formative years. And she was worried—worried what she and Nathan would find, worried about what they wouldn't find. Audrey could fit her whole history into a shoebox. _Literally_. What if they had nothing to tell her, nothing that could shed some light on her origins? Worse yet, what if she went to the orphanage, and the sisters had no idea who she was? What if Audrey Parker never existed?

Stop. Stop. _Stop_.

The buzzing of her cell phone on the nightstand stirred her from her thoughts. She retrieved the phone. **Ephraim Brand** shone on the illuminated screen. Big, bold letters for a bold man.

"It's late." She made no pretense of politeness when she answered it.

"I know, and I apologize for the late call." Ephraim's voice softened. "I wanted to verify you are all right. I was worried about you. The way we left things tonight…"

"I'm fine." Her clipped tone bespoke her lack of interest in a conversation with him.

"I know I foisted a considerable surprise on you."

"Yes, you did, but like I said, I'm fine."

Brand hesitated a moment before replying, "I'm glad. I shall let you go then. It's good to hear your voice again, Audrey, even if you are cross. Pleasant dreams."

She was about to protest his comment, but she realized she couldn't argue. She _was _grumpy. "Goodnight." She hesitated a moment before adding, "We'll talk soon." And with that, she pressed the END button on the phone to terminate the call.

_Lucy's husband. _She still couldn't quite believe it.

Audrey's eyes went back to the shadows on the ceiling. There were things far more frightening than what could be seen by the eyes.

* * *

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. _The words repeated in Nathan's mind like a mantra.

The woman of his dreams offered herself to him, and he just wouldn't pull the trigger. Maybe there _was _something wrong with him. It wasn't as though either of them was a virgin. And they sure weren't kids anymore.

Duke's words from earlier came back to him. Duke, with his jabs hidden behind smiles and what passed in some circles as charm. Why'd he even pay any attention to Duke, of all people?

"… _You know, Nathan, I was joking earlier about you sleeping with Audrey, but I guess it has me curious. Can you…without being able to feel…" _

Duke had no idea Nathan could feel Audrey, that she was the one person in the world he could feel physically. But feeling was so much more than tactile sensations, neurons firing in the brain, pleasure, pain. It was the connection he had with her that he shared with no one else, not just the physical connection but the emotional one.

When she had brought up the sleeping arrangements, Nathan wanted to take her up on her invitation. For once, he wished he could be more like Duke, stop being a gentleman, live for the moment, but he couldn't stand the thought of complicating her life any further when she was so vulnerable. He had to force himself to keep his mind out of the gutter and his hands off of her.

But he'd wanted her. Still did.

It had been so long, and Audrey was remarkable, stunning, sexy. Seeing her clad in his t-shirt with a toothbrush in her hand was the second sexiest thing he'd ever seen, second only to when she had peeled off her clothes in front of him the day before. The way she leaned over the sink, the muscles in her slender thighs coming into view, forced Nathan to take a step back. She was oblivious to his reaction and how much he wanted those thighs wrapped around him.

He looked down, could see the covers tenting in the area of his crotch. It was strange to not be able to feel his own erection, though in this instance, he supposed he should be grateful.

He wanted to do the right thing by her, but he sure as hell wasn't a saint. Once she was able to work through the turmoil caused by Ephraim Brand, Nathan fully intended to spend a day or two or ten in bed with her.

Then again, he had been around long enough to know Brand probably hadn't shown his full hand to Audrey, not if he was toying with her the way Nathan believed him to be. But that didn't erase the fact that Lucy had been married to the man. They had shared an emotional connection, and there was a physical connection between the two as well that went beyond sex. When Audrey touched Brand, his pain eased. Lucy must have done the same for him, and Nathan couldn't imagine that Brand was going to just let Audrey walk away.

What happened to Lucy?

And why did she have such an effect on the people around her?

How did she somehow become Audrey?

Did that mean the whole process could reverse itself and Audrey could become Lucy once more?

What did it mean for their future?

The future. What a concept. He could barely see past the crisis of the day. Would there be a time when things would be normal again? Where their lives weren't bleeding trees, random crevices opening up around town, nearly getting killed every other day by someone who didn't have a handle on this or that Trouble?

Would he ever be able to feel his own damn skin again?

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. _

* * *

Audrey wasn't entirely sure when she had drifted off to sleep. One minute she was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, and the next…

_...She was crossing a lush green lawn. The warmth of summer filled the air. _

_She walked with purpose to the police barricade and ducked under the cordon. For a moment, she thought no one had spotted her, but a sandy-haired uniformed officer approached her. _

"_What the hell are you doing?" He was gruff, a little older than her, handsome in an everyman way except for his brilliant blue eyes, which were decidedly unusual, almost icy in appearance._

_She had not really thought ahead to an excuse for her presence. Thus far, she had managed to avoid dealing with local law enforcement when a Trouble manifested. "Making your job easier, Officer…"_

"_Wuornos. Garland Wuornos. And you can make my job easier by getting on the other side of the police line."_

_She had the impression he was accustomed to getting his way and that few dared defy him. Of course, she was used to men with a commanding presence. She was married to one. "Let me talk with him."_

_She couldn't quite tell if her assertion annoyed him or amused him. He grunted slightly, his mouth forming a lopsided smile. "You have hostage negotiation experience, Miss…?"_

"_Lucy Ripley." She looked him square in the eyes. "I'm good with the strange ones." _

* * *

"_Parker, you okay? You were calling out." _

She could hear him faintly. He seemed so far away.

"_Parker?!" His voice sounded sharp._

Nathan's sudden appearance jarred Audrey from her sleep. Her bleary eyes focused as he turned on a lamp. She sat up, the heel of her hand against her forehead.

_What the hell was that?_

She halfway expected to smell the freshly cut lawn, to see icy blue eyes and disapproval.

Instead, she saw Nathan.

And then came the pounding in her chest. He was tense, worried (if she knew his body language, and by this point, she certainly did), and not wearing much—nothing really, except for boxer briefs. She averted her gaze even though she would have been content to stare.

"I was dreaming." She shivered.

Nathan suddenly became conscious of his own state of undress. He hadn't stopped to pull on pants or a robe when he heard her. It hadn't even occurred to him until that moment how underclothed he was. "Must've been some dream."

"Mmhmm." She pulled the blanket more tightly around herself as her teeth began to chatter.

"Did the boiler break?" For all he knew, the temperature in the house had plummeted, and he was running around in nothing but his skivvies.

"I don't th-th-think so," she chattered. "Sorry I bothered you. I'm a r-rotten house-g-guest."

"Audrey." Her name came out as a sigh. Without another word he crossed the short distance to the bed, and climbed under the covers with her. She gasped slightly as he drew her to him and wrapped his arms and legs around her. He rubbed one hand along her arm trying to warm her. She rested her head against his chest, grateful for his warmth but even more grateful for the closeness. She never was too keen on human contact, probably because she had so little of it growing up; strange how she craved contact with him.

"You don't feel like you have a fever, but your heart's beating a mile a minute. Maybe I should call Julia."

"There's no need." Her fingers trailed across his ribcage. She could feel his sharp intake of breath, as well as the smoothness under her fingertips. "I'm not sure what this sh-shivering is all about. And don't let this go to your head, but my heart sped up when I saw you. Good old fashioned norepinephrine."

Adrenaline.

Attraction.

The corners of Nathan's mouth curled in the faintest of smiles.

"My own personal, _smug_ furnace," she said with a sigh. Her shivering was subsiding. "Wait. I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"I'm fine," he assured her.

She pulled back slightly and looked at him, their heads on the same pillow. "Nathan."

He stroked her hair, feeling its silky texture between his fingers. "I'm not just being a tough guy. I heal kind of fast," he reassured her. "Glad you stopped shivering."

"But don't let go."

He stroked her face lightly. The pad of his thumb brushed over her lips. For the briefest of moments, she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he rested his hand at the nape of her neck. "Bossy," he teased.

"Eh, you love it. Did I wake you?"

"Couldn't sleep."

She closed her eyes, silently reprimanding herself before she replied, "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

He felt so deliciously male against her, all hard planes and muscle. She shifted against him trying to bring him even closer.

"But too much more of that, and it will be your fault," he warned.

Realizing what he was driving at, Audrey's mouth grew dry and her eyes flew open. "Oh."

"Do you want to tell me about it? The dream?"

Was there anything to tell? It felt actual, as though she was living it not dreaming it, but innocuous enough, certainly not the start of some torrid love affair. Audrey could feel Lucy's drive to get to someone who was in trouble and her annoyance over Garland Wuornos questioning her presence. Of course, there was plenty of annoyance to go around if Garland's reaction was any indication.

"Am I certifiable yet?"

"I think you passed that awhile back."

"If you weren't so warm, and I weren't so comfortable, I would flick your ear or something," she threatened. "I remembered being Lucy. At least, I think it was her memory, not just a dream. It seemed so real."

"How much do you remember?"

"Some. Not all. Bits and pieces of a conversation." She took a deep breath, and as she continued, found herself almost smiling. "It was intense and annoying and … for the first time, I kind of felt like I understood Lucy."

"Did you remember something about Brand?"

She could feel him stiffen at the mention of Lucy's husband.

"No. This memory—it was about your dad."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	27. PastPresent

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for all the reviews. I've tried to respond to each of you individually through PM, but let me say it again, I truly appreciate your encouragement and support.

Maria, you were asking about the other story I'm toying with. It is a companion piece/prequel to "The Biggest Mystery Yet." The untitled (but partially written story) is the case that led to Audrey and Nathan's predicament in that aforementioned one-shot.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: "Past/Present"**

"_Officer Wuornos, she can be an asset to us."_

"_Chief, she's gonna get herself killed."_

"_We need her." The mustached chief of police folded his caramel colored hands together and rested them on his desk as he looked at the young man, his calm demeanor in direct contrast with Garland's barely contained frustration._

"_Why?" Garland demanded._

"_She has unique skills. And who knows? Maybe she can fix you."_

_Outside the office, Lucy leaned against the wall and wished that eavesdropping wasn't one of her vices._

* * *

"Morning, sleepyhead."

Audrey blinked several times. Her mind felt like it was stuck in a dense fog, thick enough to choke on, and her sleep-addled brain seemed the perfect match for her bleary vision. Where was she? What day was it?

_Wait._ It was Nathan who had awoken her.

She was in his guest room where she'd spent the night.

And so had he.

Had they…? No. He had held her, but that was it. And then it all came tumbling back to her. Ephraim Brand and their 'date.' The true nature of Brand and his relationship with Lucy. The feel of Nathan's body as he tried to warm her, comfort her. She'd fallen asleep feeling his heartbeat.

"Hey. What time is it?" Her voice halfway croaked when she spoke.

"7:30. I made some breakfast."

"Pancakes?" she asked, trying to stifle a yawn and failing miserably.

"Thought about it," he admitted. "But decided against it. Went with cinnamon rolls and bacon."

She sat up and stretched as a smile curled on her lips. "I'm getting the royal treatment."

"If the royals eat cinnamon rolls from a can." Nathan studied her for a moment. "How're you feeling this morning?"

"I'm good. All things considered. Thanks for letting me crash here last night. Again."

"Any time."

But Audrey noticed how the tips of Nathan's ears looked pink, as well as the color creeping up from his neck onto his cheeks. Nathan Wuornos was blushing. It was kind of sweet that this grown man could blush over something so…innocent. She would break him of that eventually. In a way, it was a shame because it was quite cute, but she was looking forward to stripping him of his inhibitions—among other things.

"So you are quite the early riser."

"It's not that early. Normally I'd be out the door by now."

Audrey slid from under the covers, wistful about leaving the warmth of the bed, but the scent of the food had finally wafted down the hallway to the room, and she had to admit, she was hungry.

A few minutes later, they sat at on the barstools in the kitchen, Audrey pulling apart a pastry, relishing every last sweet morsel.

Finally, she said, "I've been thinking about your dad."

"That's…awkward."

"Tell me about it." It was more awkward than even Nathan knew. She still hadn't told him of Sally Harrington's accusation as she left Brand House the night before, that Lucy and Garland were lovers. Audrey could chalk the omission to a number of factors, the least of which being she wasn't sure she believed it. But with all the things she had found out about her past—and that Nathan seemingly accepted—would this one be too much? She needed to be honest with him, yes, but she needed to be certain before she opened that wound. "Troubles tend to run in families."

"And no one in my family has my Trouble. I've thought about that."

"What do you think that means?"

"I'm the unlucky bastard who originated this particular Trouble, I guess." Nathan pressed the handle of his fork against the palm of his hand. Nothing. He saw the indentation, the white against pink where the metal pressed into his skin, but that was where his sensory perception ended. Not even pins and needles.

Until Audrey reached over and ran her fingers across his forearm.

She watched his reaction play across his features as he felt her brief touch. "It won't be forever." Small comfort. She wanted to make him feel _everything._

He took a deep breath, trying to curb his reaction to her touch. "Do the Troubles even follow rules?"

"I guess not. Is it possible your dad is Troubled in some other way?"

She pulled her hand back. Immediately, Nathan noticed the nothingness. Once again, he tried to curtail his reaction, this time disappointment, and focus. "No. Definitely not."

"But he's been through a lot, seen a lot. If anyone has a reason to have a Trouble triggered, it would be him."

Understanding sank in. "There's a reason you're asking."

Audrey nodded. "I had another dream." She wasn't sure whether to be grateful to finally get these glimpses into Lucy's life or bothered by them. Why now? What had changed to suddenly unleash them? "I was Lucy, and I was eavesdropping."

"Sounds like something you would do."

"Yeah," she admitted. Maybe Lucy wasn't so different from herself. It was simultaneously frightening and intriguing. "I heard your dad talking with the Chief of Police. I think…" her voice trailed off as she tried to recall the dream. Everything about the chief seemed vague in her recollection, but Garland Wuornos was memorable. He was young. Virile. His eyes were strikingly blue. His voice wasn't quite as gravelly, and he wasn't so worn down from life, but something was weighing on him. She could tell from the tenseness of his muscles and the scowl on his face. "He wasn't too happy about working with me. Lucy," she corrected.

"I can see that." A flash of humor sparked in his eyes.

"Am I that hard to work with?"

"No, but my dad…he's a pig-headed man."

Audrey quirked an eyebrow. "Sounds familiar."

"I'm not pig-headed. I'm … "

"Mulish?"

"Not even close. We're off track."

"Changing the subject rather than admit the truth. I see how it is," she teased.

Nathan flung a small piece of pastry at her, much to her surprise.

Audrey chuckled. "Living dangerously, Wuornos. Do you really want to get into a food war with me?"

There were a lot of things Nathan wanted to do with Audrey, but he'd never really considered a food fight prime among them. "I could take you on," he replied.

"I may let you try." As their eyes met, it was evident neither was talking about the food anymore.

It was ridiculous how good he looked first thing in the morning. She looked away, trying to regain her train of thought. "So…I'm not sure your dad is as untroubled as we've thought all this time. The chief said to your dad that he basically had to put up with Lucy and maybe she could fix him."

Nathan's brows furrowed. "That could mean anything."

"Not when they were talking about helping the Troubled. Look, I don't know if what I saw was real or imagined, but I want to see your dad before we leave. See what he says."

"Parker, don't get your hopes up. I don't think he's going to say much of anything."

"I'll wear him down. Eventually."

* * *

Audrey took a deep breath as she stood outside the break room at the police station. Through the window of the door, she could see Chief Wuornos's stocky form as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. He looked ill at ease, she noticed, perhaps even borderline pissed off. She wasn't likely to improve his mood.

She entered the room and just as quickly closed the door behind her. He looked at her, but went back to his occupation, showing little interest in her presence.

"Just wanted to check in with you before I head out for a few days."

The coffee maker sputtered the last drops of coffee into the pot. He ignored her greeting. "You'd think they'd get a new pot brewing if they used up the last one."

"Nathan usually brews some in the morning."

"And of course, he's not here when you need 'im." Garland eyed her with thinly veiled irritation. Audrey wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Sure, she'd known her boss to be surly at times, impatient, but that was usually in response to something, not his manner in general. "As touching as this is, the goodbye's unnecessary."

Audrey, undeterred, stood her ground. "So it's been a strange week. Stranger than usual."

"You talking or are you leaving?" he asked as he reached for his cup, only to find he'd must've left it in his office. He began foraging through the cupboards in search of a Styrofoam substitute.

Audrey noticed the cup on a table next to her and she held it out. The chief eyed it suspiciously before taking it.

"Why did you offer me a job?" Audrey finally blurted.

"Because you're good…"

"With the strange ones?" She studied his weathered face to see if he would react. He stared at her blandly, revealing nothing. It occurred to her that he would be a formidable poker opponent.

"What do you remember?" He gripped a wooden coffee stirrer between his teeth.

"Not enough."

"Too much." Garland removed the stirrer from his mouth and broke it with one hand before throwing it away. Nicotine stains on his fingers, she noticed. He was smoking again. "The best thing you can do is be Audrey Parker. Be you."

Audrey's heart pounded. He was finally acknowledging—albeit through omission—that she had been someone else. "But I was Lucy and…married…and worked with you."

"Found that out, did you? Guess it _has_ been quite a week for you."

Audrey wasn't quite sure what she expected, but this wasn't it. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Garland looked at Audrey pointedly. "You tell me how that conversation was supposed to go."

"I trusted you to be straight with me."

"What do you want me to say? Never was much for groveling, and I won't apologize for doing what I thought was right. What I still think is right."

Audrey gripped the edge of the table. "You tried to warn me about Ephraim Brand on the one hand and then turned around and set me on his path. Why?"

But Garland deflected. "Some things don't change. You were a pain in my ass then. You're a pain in my ass now. I may care what happens to you, but not everyone's happy you're back."

"What's that supposed to mean? Who else knew I was Lucy?"

"All this before my first cup of coffee," he muttered.

"You worked with Lucy, and you never said a word. You know I have been searching for my identity—and nothing. I literally stood in your office and begged for your help. And nothing!" Her tone grew harsher with each sentence.

"Guess you've been talking to Nathan. Where are you two heading off to?"

"That's it? Really? That's all you have to say?"

"Look, I don't care where you go. You two just keep it professional." He began to walk past her, but Audrey shot out her arm, the motion stopping him.

"Did you and Lucy keep it professional?" Her question was barely more than a whisper, but the accusation may as well have been a thunderous boom.

"Can't believe I'm even dignifying that with a response. Push and push! That's what she did. That's what you do. But we knew our boundaries. It's time for you to."

"Does this have anything to do with your Trouble?" Her words seemed to suspend in the space between them.

"Who said anything about a Trouble?" His blue eyes widened. The reaction was the first slip of the mask she had noted.

"I can help you."

Garland shook his head. "No. You can't."

* * *

Once alone in his office, Garland removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, his hands shaking. For what wasn't the first time, he wished Eleanor Carr were still around. Not that he liked to rely on doctors—most of them were educated fools in his estimation—but she was different. No nonsense. Not above keeping a secret or two for the greater good. Nor was she resistant to prescribing a little something to calm his nerves. In her absence—hell, it wasn't an absence; she was another victim of the Troubles—nicotine had once again become his drug of choice. Oh, he'd tried drinking, but he found himself a dysfunctional drunk, and as much as he hated to be aware of what was going on around him, he _needed_ to be aware. Cigarettes seemed to be the least of all evils.

If left to his thoughts, he could just hear the voices of the women who'd been in his life scolding him for his habit. His mom—God rest her soul—when she'd found him with cigarettes at age 16, had jerked him by the ear and torn apart his room to confiscate every last one. He had more within the hour, thanks to the vending machine inside the Gun and Rose diner. Back then, he started smoking because it was the thing to do, a way to rebel against the rules—not that he was a damn hippie or beatnik—and it became habit because he was cranky without the nicotine, not because he was trying to hold everything together.

Holly's chiding was far gentler. Garland remembered how she used to lay her head on his chest and listen. "You're rattling in there," she'd say. But he'd quickly remind her that his stamina was just fine, thank you very much. And when he was through reminding her, she would smile contentedly and ask him to remind her again and again and again.

Lucy had been no nonsense about the whole thing. She made no secret of disliking the smell, the taste, everything about his smoking. Her bluntness was one of the things he hated about her, and one of the things he loved.

He and Laverne used to spend breaks on the back steps of the station smoking until she or he (depending on who was quitting at the time) would beg off. They'd solved the world's problems on those back steps if only someone in government would've cared to ask for their solutions. Laverne was currently on the nicotine patch and temperamental as hell.

Eleanor scolded him any time she caught wind of him starting back again and actually had a way of making him feel bad, until he showed up at her house unexpectedly one night and found her with a cigar in hand.

But as Garland now lit the cigarette, he couldn't help but think that even nicotine couldn't fix this. Little by little, it all unraveled before him, much as he unraveled.

Keep it together. Keep it together.

If Audrey remembered, that would be it.

Maybe it would be better if she did. Let it all out.

No. No. Nathan would get caught in the crosshairs. He wasn't ready for that.

Garland dug into his pocket and pulled out his billfold. He fumbled with the contents until he found what he was looking for. Nestled in one of the back compartments was an old photograph, folded in half. Its colors were faded to dullness, but the memory of that day was vivid.

Lucy, Gwen Glendower, and himself. It was warm, the day of Gwen's wedding to Cole.

Try as he might to be happy for Gwen and Cole, Garland felt wrong about the whole thing, and it showed by the grim look on his face in the photo. A few miles down the road, there was a little girl who believed her mother to be dead and a man who mourned the loss of his wife, a man who clung to the idea that Cole Glendower had murdered her. And all the while, Penny Driscoll had been reborn into Gwen Glendower.

Lucy, who sat near him, also wore a solemn look, not appropriate for what was supposed to be a joyful occasion. She was so careful to keep her emotions in check around him that he had, more than once over the years, wondered what she'd been thinking that day. It wasn't always easy to penetrate her outer shell. She could be affable but reveal little of herself. She had this keen ability to turn it around, get others to reveal themselves. He would've called her a chameleon, but after they encountered a real life human chameleon, that somehow didn't seem appropriate. But Lucy would've made a good poker opponent.

Of the three, only Gwen smiled broadly in the picture.

Garland had never told Holly the truth of where he was that day; he couldn't without betraying Gwen and Cole's secret. It was after that day he saw Holly's faith in him beginning to slip, and then he gave her more reasons to doubt him.

He wished he'd been honest with Holly about so many things.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Nathan asked as he loaded Audrey's suitcase in the rear of the Bronco.

"About like you expected," Audrey replied as she stood next to the driver's side door.

Nathan looked at her sympathetically. "Wish everything wasn't such a damn secret."

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time. He verified that those dreams I had about him and Lucy were real."

"That's something. Did he admit to being Troubled?"

The wind whipped, blowing Audrey's hair into her face. She pulled it back, securing it with a ponytail holder. "Not exactly. He deflected. A patented Wuornos move, might I add."

"So you don't really know."

"No, I know. I just don't know what the nature of his Trouble is. I would think it would be like yours, but I'm pretty sure he can feel."

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets. He admired Audrey's skills as a detective, but he had never seen any sign of his dad being Troubled. She had to be barking up the wrong tree. "I think you're going to have to let that one go."

"I'm just…"

"Just what?"

"Worried about him." She shook her head before adding, "Pissed off at him, too."

"Pissed off, I get it. Worried? Why?"

"He's on edge. Something's eating at him."

"Yeah. He got called on his bull."

"It's more than that. And he said that not everyone's happy I'm back."

Nathan licked his lips. "Who do you think he meant?"

"Who else knows or suspects?"

"Other than us and the chief? The Teagues." Nathan hesitated a moment before adding, "Brand."

Audrey's phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and looked at the display. "Speak of the devil." Nathan grimaced when he saw the name in bold letters. **Ephraim Brand.** Audrey shrugged slightly, and hit the answer button. "Parker."

"_Audrey, I know it is short notice, but I was wondering if you are available for lunch. I suspect you have a number of questions, and, quite frankly, I have a few myself."_

"Ephraim, I…can't have lunch with you. Not today."

"_Perhaps dinner, then?"_

"I'm actually going to be gone for a few days."

Nathan shook his head when she told Brand about her trip. Audrey looked at him and mouthed, _'Sorry.'_

"_I understand. When you return, then."_

"Count on it."

"_Audrey?"_

"Yes?"

"_Whatever you need, whatever it takes, I want to help you find the answers you seek."_

"I'll hold you to that." She pressed the end button on the phone. She stuffed the phone back into her pocket and met Nathan's questioning stare. "Don't. Don't say it."

"Wasn't going to, but I still don't trust him."

"I don't either, but I can't pretend he doesn't exist. Lucy loved him. Was married to him."

"Right."

"_Lucy_ loved him_. I_ don't. But I do need him." With that, she walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle and climbed in.

* * *

After a three-and-a-half hour flight from Bangor, Maine, to Dayton, Ohio, plus a twenty-minute ride in a rental car, Nathan and Audrey finally arrived in Xenia. The trees that lined the two lane road were still full of the vivid colors of fall—rich oranges, reds, and yellows—that had already abandoned the foliage around Haven. The area was lovely, albeit in a far different way from the rocky coastline and abundant coniferous forests of Maine.

Being back in Ohio was surreal, and Audrey found herself unnerved by the changes she saw. For instance, what had once been farmland (growing soybeans if memory served her correctly) was now partitioned into a neighborhood of cookie-cutter houses.

"This is familiar."

"They all look the same," Audrey lamented. She wasn't sure why it bothered her to see the houses there. It wasn't as though she was personally affected. If nothing else, it looked like affordable housing, a nice neighborhood for kids to grow up in.

"I was thinking the city. Xenia. I know it from somewhere."

"Probably the tornadoes."

"Come again?"

"Some places are known for a Civil War battle, a giant bottle of ketchup, a statue of Superman, brothels. This place is known for its tornadoes. The Shawnee called it 'the place of the devil wind.'"

"Sounds ominous."

"No more than some of the stories told about your home town. Actually, less ominous having lived in both places. Nothing exciting ever happened here but the weather."

Nathan nodded. "Good place to live, minus the bulldozer/vacuum cleaner weather combo."

"Stories of tornadoes go back to the 18th century around these parts. The big one everyone talks about was back in '74, when an F5 came through. That was before my time." She paused. "Well, sort of. But all of us who grew up around here knew about it. More than thirty people died, thousands wound up homeless, several schools were destroyed."

"That's awful."

"There wasn't anyone completely unaffected. The town came together, though. Rebuilt. More twisters came through in '89. Again in 2000."

"You were around for those."

"The orphanage is a little outside of town east of here, but yeah. The 2000 tornado I remember very well. It was the September after I graduated from high school. It did a lot of damage. I came back with some friends from OSU, and we spent a few days helping folks dig out from under that. I really don't like storms, by the way."

"I wouldn't have guessed that about you."

"Why's that?"

"Our first case together, you handled yourself, and there was some wicked weather thanks to Marion."

"And you ran straight at a man with a gun. Doesn't mean you like having a gun pointed at you any more than I like stormy weather." They were closing in on town, rather than the outskirts. Audrey's eyes went to the buildings, some familiar, some not. The hardware store Josh Hopkins's parents owned. The stone structure of the Catholic church building where she attended Mass, the statue of the Virgin Mary just as she remembered. The bike smith, whose building was in considerable disrepair (ironic for one whose profession is to repair, she thought). She felt an unfamiliar tightness in her chest, not pain exactly, but not particularly pleasant either.

"You okay?"

His question took her by surprise. "I'm fine. It's just bizarre being here."

Ten years—and some things were so different. Others looked as though time had stood still.

Would anyone know her? Had she really been here?

A contemplative silence fell between them, broken only by the voice of the GPS giving directions. Evidently, someone who had been using it before them had a penchant for Australian accents, as nearly every instruction from the disembodied voice was followed with 'Mate.'

A few minutes later Nathan pulled the rental car into the driveway at Victoria's Bed and Breakfast. The stately red brick home was impressive, with its white wrap around porch and columns, its balcony, its solarium. Massive sassafras and maple trees shaded the yard, the vibrant colors a brilliant contrast to the blue of the mid-afternoon autumn day.

"This place looks like it's been around for awhile." Nathan looked more closely at the sign for the bed and breakfast. _Established in 1891_ was etched in smaller lettering.

"_This_ is where we're staying?" Audrey asked.

"If it looks all right to you."

"I love it. Always have. I used to go past this place and wonder what it was like inside. How did you know?"

"I didn't. This place just seemed…special."

_Special._

The tightness in Audrey's chest was quickly replaced by another feeling altogether, an odd fluttering. Nathan made her freaking flutter. It was such a girly reaction, but she couldn't help herself. He could have booked a room at the Ramada or some other chain hotel; instead, he went off the beaten path to find a special place for them.

"I reserved two rooms."

Any romantic notions filling her imagination came to a screeching halt. "Seriously?"

Nathan looked at her, unsure how to respond.

"It was a few days ago. Before."

_Before._

Before they'd kissed. Before they'd almost made love. Before they had slept in the same bed the night before.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head ruefully. "You were being considerate, a gentleman."

"But you don't want a gentleman."

"I want whatever is going to make you comfortable."

"The innkeeper did say I could cancel one of the rooms if we don't need both."

Audrey smiled.

* * *

"Phone calls are free. We have a great unlimited local and long distance phone plan. Though I guess in the era of cell phones, that's not quite as impressive as it once was. Sorry. I prattle. Where was I? Oh, yes. Breakfast is self-serve down in the kitchen, starting at 6:00 a.m. and running through 10:30. Feel free to rummage through the kitchen if you get hungry. I try to keep plenty of snacks for such occasions. There's a library at the bottom of the stairs if you are looking for any reading materials. Your room is equipped with cable television and a whirlpool. The walls are nice and thick; not much sound gets through, so you should be able to sleep soundly. Sometime ago, we converted the fireplaces from wood burning to natural gas. There's a remote for it on the mantle. Please, above all else, make yourself at home."

When Mrs. Hodges, the innkeeper left, Nathan and Audrey turned to each other.

"I think she said all of that in one breath," Nathan remarked and set their bags in an alcove.

"That's talent." Audrey's eyes darted around the room. "This place is beautiful." The sheer curtains did little to filter the afternoon sun. The room was large, while still maintaining a cozy feel. More than anything, it had character, from the original oak floor to the detailed trim work and homey touches.

Audrey gravitated toward the French doors that opened out onto the private balcony she had observed from the driveway. With ease, she unlatched the doors and stepped outside. The wind hit her face, carrying with it the smell of fall. Crisp. Sweet. Clean.

Nathan followed her. "Good view of the squirrels from up here." Sure enough, one squirrel was chasing another, as both leapt from branch to branch on a nearby maple tree, chattering away.

Audrey played along. "It was worth coming here just to see that."

"Right. Because Maine squirrels chatter in monosyllable."

Maine-speak was their on-going joke, and it rarely failed to garner a smile from Audrey. "And say ayuh, which I still don't get. I mean, wouldn't it be easier to just say yeah. Or nod your head?"

"Parker?"

"Hhmm?"

"You talk too much." With a half smile, he moved closer to her, his hands sliding around her waist. He could smell her shampoo, feel a tiny sliver of warmth and softness where her Henley had crept up.

She smiled back at him with a glint in her eyes. "Are you gonna do something about it?" she challenged, tilting her chin up.

And then Nathan's lips were on hers, answering her challenge. It began as playful, a nip, a tug at her bottom lip. They were half-laughing, half-kissing. But then her hands went to his neck, his hair, and he lightly moaned at the sensation of her small hands against his skin. Yes, it was all very light-hearted until it wasn't anymore and their kisses deepened, and all they could taste was each other and the unspoken promises between them.

Nathan was first to break the kiss. He watched as Audrey's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing labored. Her breathing mirrored his own.

"Wow," he uttered.

"Wow yourself," she agreed.

"Every time you kiss me, I feel like I'm coming undone."

She ran her forefinger across his cleft chin. "Sounds dangerous."

"You have no idea. You do know I'm crazy about you, right?"

"You're crazy, all right." She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. "But ditto."

"So here's what's going to happen. We're going into the room because there's a kid down in the yard watching us kiss. And-"

Audrey turned her head to look, and sure enough, a little boy was down in the yard below. The mop-haired tyke waved, and despite her utter mortification, Audrey waved back.

"Oh my God," she laughed burying her face against Nathan's chest. She could feel his laughter, too.

Nathan wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and the two walked inside.

"Do you think he's scarred?" Audrey asked still laughing.

"Think he's probably seen worse on TV."

"It's a good thing he's not a mind reader. As far as we know," she added tangling her fingers in his belt loops.

"Audrey."

"Nathan," she mimicked him.

"I think we should go to the girls' home."

"Not what I thought you were going to say."

"It's what we came here for…and I think if we stay in this room much longer, we won't leave."

"You're right."

"But later…"

_Later._

* * *

St. Mary's Home for Girls was located about three miles east of Xenia. The stone building, which looked like it could have been quarried from the site itself, was large but plain, and situated on several acres of farmland. A barn sat a couple hundred feet away from the main structure. The unmistakable sound of cows mooing, coupled with the scent of cow patties, left little doubt as to their presence.

A look of incredulity formed on Nathan's face that he couldn't quite wipe away. "You were a farm girl, Parker?"

"We had cows. But a farm girl? No."

"But you had cows. You. And cows. Together."

"Don't look so shocked."

"So what did you do with these cows, exactly?"

"Well, after I got over the disappointment that brown cows don't produce chocolate milk, I did chores. I was here the longest, seeing as how I was never available for adoption, so at one point or another, I did a little bit of everything. Fed the animals. The barn cats. The cows. Milking duty. Cleaning duty. Cooking duty. Mowed the property. Actually, that's how I first learned to drive."

"Explains a lot."

Audrey lightly flicked his ear upon hearing his dig about her driving.

"Ow!" he grimaced.

"Idle hands do the devil's work, right?"

"And in your case, busy hands," he muttered. "I guess I figured the orphanage would be in town."

"I think a parishioner may have donated the property. So, do we need a plan or something? Good cop, bad cop?"

Nathan rubbed the back of his head. "We aren't interrogating suspects. I was thinking appealing to their sense of humanity."

"Oh, these are nuns. There's no humanity left."

"In which case, we'll case the joint. Find a way to get into the records without permission."

"Says the police detective. _Nice_."

Their feet crunched on the gravel driveway as they approached the stone structure. "So this is it. Where you grew up."

"Yeah, it is." She willed the lump in her throat to go away.

"You ready for this?"

"No, but we did come 1000 miles."

"Would be a shame to waste this trip."

With a raised eyebrow, she replied, "Oh, this trip will not be a waste."

As they walked up the wide steps to the building, they noticed a sign adjacent to the double-door. RING FOR SERVICE.

"That's new in the last decade."

Nathan pushed the button under the sign, and the two could hear a buzzer inside the building. A few moments later, a habit-garbed woman approached the door. She opened it, looking at the two with her wide-set hazel eyes.

"Yes? May I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Audrey Parker, and I grew up here."

The woman studied Audrey closely. "I don't recognize you."

Nathan's gaze shifted to Audrey, who seemed nonplussed. "I don't recognize you, either. I must've been here before your time, Sister…."

"Frances. I joined this ministry seven years ago."

"That explains it. I left in 2000."

"Won't you come in, Audrey Parker, you say?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is this Mr. Parker?"

Nathan coughed slightly, and Audrey had to suppress a smile. "No. This is Nathan Wuornos. He's my…," Audrey hesitated. What was she supposed to call him exactly? He was more than her partner, more than her friend. Boyfriend sounded juvenile. And she sure wasn't about to announce to the nun that he was about to become her lover.

Thankfully, Sister Frances rescued the awkward situation. "Wuornos. That's an unusual name," she commented.

"Aren't too many around," Nathan replied impassively.

"But it sounds familiar somehow," the nun persisted.

"He shares the same last name as a famous serial killer," Audrey offered, as she turned and looked at him.

"No relation," Nathan added when he saw how stricken the nun looked.

"Do come on in," Sister Frances offered. She turned, assumed they were following her, and retreated into the building.

Nathan leaned down and whispered in Audrey's ear, "You say that to get a reaction out of her or out of me?"

"Yes."

* * *

_The waves crashed against the rocks in the distance, but the sand felt good under her bare feet. An easel before her, a straw hat to shield her fair complexion, and a paintbrush in hand—this was the most perfect of all possible days. _

_She knew he was there before he even said anything. He wasn't sure how. He'd been, by his own estimation, stealthy in his approach._

"_You did good out there."_

"_High praise coming from you, Officer Wuornos."_

"_After what you did yesterday, I think you should call me Garland. You gave that family a chance for a normal life."_

"_I just hope for discretion."_

_Silence fell between them for a moment. He shoved his hands in his pockets. She wondered what had him stewing. _

"_So there's a Mr. Ripley."_

"_Believe it or not."_

_He shook his head at her pun. _

"_Well," she amended, "in a way. I didn't take his name when we married, so he isn't Mr. Ripley."_

"_How progressive of you."_

"_You say it as though it's a bad thing." She touched brush to canvas. "I wanted to make a reputation in the art world without the influence of his name. Sink or swim on my own merits. All of that is just a pipe dream right now. I haven't painted in ages. Not until today."_

"_And he's okay with you traipsing into the Troubles. He lets you do this, no questions asked?"_

"_Lets me?" She laughed ironically. "Oh my. Are you naturally insulting, or do you practice in front of the mirror?"_

"_I just know that if you were my wife, I'd want you as far away from the Troubles as I could get you."_

"_You haven't told her about your Trouble," she replied quietly._

"_You don't know what you're talking about."_

"_Actually, I do. It wasn't that hard to figure out, Garland. How long?"_

_He opened his mouth to deny it again but couldn't form those words. "Long enough." And it was strangely a relief to admit it to her, the very thing he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone else. Oh, the Chief knew. Kept it under wraps. After all, it didn't really affect his job._

"_I'm sorry. It could be worse, though. It can always be worse."_

"_You need to be careful, Lucy. Folks are starting to ask questions about why you're showing up at the center of these things."_

"_And what do you tell them?"_

"_You're our sketch artist." _

_She smiled. "Well, I suppose if you're going to lie, it's best to let it have some basis in truth."_

_Garland considered the painting. Blue eyes showed up against a sea of tumbling waves. "Who's it going to be?"_

"_That remains to be seen."_

* * *

_To be continued..._


	28. Written in the Scars

**Author's Notes**

Okay, so it has absolutely been forever and a day. I've truly struggled to write the last several months. I think I have a finite amount of creative energy, and that supply of creativity was being channeled in other ways. I never forgot about this story, though, and I am determined to see it through to the end despite how utterly AU it is at this point.

Thanks so much for sticking this out with me. And this one chapter is a looong one.

**Previously in **_**Phoenix Rising**_**…**

Audrey learned more than she bargained for about Lucy Ripley, namely that she had a husband, one who is very much still alive in the form of Ephraim Brand, the mysterious stranger who is far more than he appears. A bitter Sally Harrington implied that Lucy shared an inappropriate relationship with Garland Wuornos, which made Audrey question whether she (as Lucy) had somehow been responsible for Holly Wuornos's death.

Devastated over the cavalcade of details emerging about her past, Audrey retreated to Nathan's home. Nathan proved to be both a source of respite and frustration as his and Audrey's physical and emotion attraction to each other continued to heat up.

Nathan and Audrey's planned trip to Ohio to learn more about Audrey Parker's origins finally took root as the two went to the orphanage where Audrey grew up to seek answers.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: "Written in the Scars"**

The sunlight's glint off the storefront window almost made Garland miss the painting. In retrospect, he wished he had, but it captured him nonetheless, pulling him in like the Siren's call. Beautiful. Deadly. Inescapable.

Cerulean and cobalt swirled in waves on its canvas bleeding into the black depths of the ocean. Eyes shone from those waves. Ice blue. Clear. The only thing clear on the whole damn canvas.

And just like that, he remembered the day on the beach, the day she'd painted it. The challenge in her voice, the amusement. The wind caught her hat that day, carrying the covering down the beach as it simultaneously whipped her long dark hair about her face. She'd laughed huskily and spoken in half answers, keeping a secret only she knew existed, a secret that begged to be discovered.

For twenty-seven years, he'd tried to put her out of his mind. He'd kept busy. Raised a son who resented him. Poured himself into his job. Went fishing to think about nothing and instead thought about everything.

And she'd returned.

Middle-of-nowhere Ohio was where she'd been left. She was supposed to be safe. _But no_. It was as though she held an invisible dowsing rod that led her straight to Haven. Maybe it was the same compulsion Ephraim Brand had.

And just like that, the Troubles returned, too.

Nothing he'd done broke the cycle. Just an exercise in futility and he was back to where he'd begun: looking at that damn painting, smelling the damn sea air, and hating himself for caring so damn much.

Some part of him knew that afternoon on the beach that she was trouble.

Lucy wasn't particularly subtle. Garland snorted. Neither was Audrey, for that matter. Like a bull in a china shop, as the old adage goes.

Garland turned to walk away but caught his own reflection in the store window. Ice blue eyes stared back at him. Eyes in a sea of chaos.

Walk away. Walk away.

Instead, he found himself walking into the store, as though bound by an unseen chain being wound tightly, pulling him in, pulling him under, drowning him.

Drowning. _Like Holly._

_Holly._ The love of his life. He had prized her and then taken his eyes off the prize. He'd been foolish as a young man, a young husband, a young father. The way he figured it, time hadn't improved him much, not if he kept tying himself to her, to Lucy.

"Good afternoon, Chief."

"Terry."

"Something I can help you with?"

"The painting in your window. I'd like to buy it."

The gray haired, bespectacled shopkeeper grimaced apologetically. "Oh, I'm sorry. I can't sell it to you. The gentleman over there just purchased it. I was about to retrieve it from the display and package it for him."

Garland looked toward the man whose back was to him, admiring other art pieces on display along the wall. As though sensing Garland's gaze on him, the other man turned around and tilted his chin in acknowledgement.

Brand.

_Keep it together. Keep it together._

"A lovely piece, is it not?"

The chief ignored the other man's sentiment, nodded his head to Terry, and exited the shop.

But Brand pursued him.

"You're aware of the artist?"

Garland froze in his tracks.

"Of course, you are. Tell me something, Chief Wuornos. Why does no one speak of Lucy around here?"

"I think you know why," Garland replied through gritted teeth.

"How could I possibly? The last time I was in town…"

Garland spun around to face the other man. "You looked exactly as you do now." Brand opened his mouth to protest, but Garland shut him down. "Don't. Didn't like you back then. Can't say time's improved my opinion of you any."

"It's a shame, really. All these years later, and still, she pulls at you."

"She's been gone a lot of years. Makes no difference to me." Lies. Unconvincing ones at that.

"But she's not really gone, now is she? I think we both know Audrey _is_ Lucy."

Garland remained silent.

"No protestations? You defy expectation. What _is_ it like for you? You lost your wife. Lost Lucy. And now you watch Audrey with your son, and she's oblivious to your lingering regrets. And she and your son—" Brand broke off, his amusement uncontained, "they orbit one another, their circles growing smaller and smaller until the inevitable collision. She'll destroy him. It is her nature."

"Not her nature. Your nature."

"Actually, I think it _is _yours. Perhaps that is why you and Lucy were so… companionable. What would Nathan think?"

"You leave him out of this."

"I'm afraid _that _is veritably impossible. Their lives have been entwined far longer than either realizes." He paused for effect. "Yet."

"Why are you here? And don't give me a bullshit answer about a family legacy when we both know it's a fabrication."

"It's in my blood."

"You bring the Troubles with you."

"Don't be absurd."

"See, I'm willing to bet that when you leave, you'll take the Troubles with you."

Brand blinked in put-on confusion. "But why would I ever want to leave?"

Garland felt his control slip, the pressure building inside. Tightness. Straining. A superficial crack formed along sidewalk, inching its way toward Brand, who merely looked down at the fissure and smiled.

The crack stopped in its tracks.

* * *

"So where is everyone?" Audrey asked. As she recalled, the girls' home always bustled with activity, but the relative calm and quiet that had settled over the premises gave the stone house an eerie feel.

Sister Frances replied, "Sister Agatha and Sister Lucia have taken some of the girls to perform a service project at a local nursing home. One of our girls is ill, so I stayed behind to tend to her needs."

"Sister Agatha," Audrey spoke the old nun's name with an air of nostalgia. "How is she?"

Sister Frances considered Audrey's question before replying with a measured, "She seems to be well in body and spirit both."

Along the hallway, group photos hung. Nathan stopped when he came to one from the late 90s. From it, a young Audrey peered out. She wasn't smiling, exactly, not the brilliant smile he'd seen her flash on occasion, but she didn't look miserable either. She wore a crisp white blouse and a skirt, as did all the girls in the photo. Her blond hair was longer, from his estimation, and pulled up into a ponytail that draped well past her shoulder.

"It's you."

Sister Frances looked at the photo and then to Audrey. "I've passed by these pictures so many times, I should have recognized you from there."

"I'm just glad I was here," Audrey acknowledged.

"Yes, this home provides an invaluable service to our girls. It is my privilege to be here, to help facilitate its continued operation."

But as Nathan focused on Audrey, he knew the nun had misinterpreted Audrey's words. It was relief he saw on her face, not gratitude. Some part of her must have feared she hadn't been here, that her life as Audrey Parker had been nothing but a lie, a false memory.

But it made no sense for Lucy to have been a grown woman and—what—? Become younger? Then again, Sally Harrington seemed to have grown younger overnight, and it all went back to Brand. Having been married to him, Lucy had the strongest connection of all to Brand. As much as Nathan hated the thought, perhaps the answers lay with him, after all.

"Let's sit for a spell," Sister Frances suggested. "May I offer you some water?"

"No, thank you." Audrey replied. Nathan merely shook his head.

Sister Frances sat on a wooden chair in what Audrey remembered as the common room. She and Nathan sat on a sofa perpendicular to the chair, though neither relaxed fully.

"So Ms. Parker, you've been gone ten years. Why come back now?"

"Please call me Audrey."

"Very well. Audrey."

"I've been trying to put together the pieces of my past."

The nun's weathered face showed her surprise in the form of her eyes widening. "I'm not sure what assistance we can offer. You should already know everything we know. When you left, did you not receive your information?"

"No, and I'd really like to see my records, how I came to be here, why I was never adopted out."

"As you know, with older children, it is sometimes difficult to place them in forever homes."

Audrey clarified, "I was an infant." _Supposedly._

That information seemed to take the nun aback, but she made no comment to that effect. "Ten years ago you left? That means you would've been born in 1982? 1983?"

"83."

Sister Frances thought for a moment. "Those records will not be easy to come by. We moved some things around a couple of years ago, the older records mostly. I'll be happy to search for them, but it may take some time to locate what you need."

"We've come a really long way," Nathan interjected. "If there's any way you could expedite the search for them…"

"I'll see what I can find, but it may be best for you to come back in the morning, say 9:30. Is that manageable?"

Audrey nodded. "Yes, thank you. Let me leave you my number in case you need to reach me before then." She retrieved a card from the small purse she carried and passed it to the sister.

* * *

Nathan's boots crunched in the gravel of the driveway outside the house. "Sister Frances seemed pretty helpful."

His hand went to the small of Audrey's back. Though he spoke casually, her stomach was doing somersaults at his touch. Such a simple gesture and already she wanted to melt into him. "Yeah, she did," she agreed, the calmness of her voice belying the tumult she felt inside. "I'm glad you're here with me."

Just one sentence, six small words, but his actions weren't small.

"Wouldn't be anywhere else."

And Audrey knew he meant it. "We still haven't made it past Sister Agatha, though."

"You're worried she won't let Sister Frances share your information?"

"Not just that but that maybe they've flagged my file or something. Maybe Sister Frances herself will find a reason not to share it with me. I just—I wonder what's in there. Could it help to explain how it's possible for me to have been Lucy? Of course, at this point, I'd settle for just knowing how I got here."

"Do you see that?" Nathan asked, his volume dropping.

"See what?"

"There's movement inside the rental car."

"You think someone's in there?" Audrey asked.

"Yep."

The two approached the car, Nathan moving to the driver's side and Audrey to the passenger's side, covering the doors on both side of the vehicle. Sure enough, crouched in the back was a teenage girl. Though her heavily applied eyeliner gave her a passing resemblance to a raccoon, she would have managed to be quite pretty if not for the scowl on her face.

"What's your name?" Nathan asked after opening the door.

And immediately, the scowl dissipated, replaced by a swaggering smile. "Anything you want it to be," the girl replied, the sultry intonation unmistakable.

A teenage Lolita. Great. This was the type of trouble Audrey could do without. "Answer the question," she ordered.

The girl glared at Audrey. "Teddy. Well, Theodora."

"I can see why you go by Teddy," Audrey replied drily.

Nathan shot a glance at Audrey before returning his attention to the teen.

"Teddy, do you live here?" Audrey asked.

"Wow. Are you a detective or something?" The girl's tone was over-the-top sarcastic.

Patience. Patience. Patience. "Actually, I am. My name is Audrey. This is Nathan."

Teddy's gaze immediately went to Nathan. "Hi Nathan."

Nathan folded his arms across his chest. "You do know it's not a good idea to get into strangers' cars."

"We're not strangers anymore. Besides," her eyes swept over him from top to bottom, "you can drive me around anytime."

_Creepy inappropriate_. "Okay. That's it. Out of the car," Audrey commanded.

Teddy's chin jutted in defiance. "You're _not_ the boss of me."

Audrey halfway snorted. "Do you want Sister Agatha to put you on kitchen duty?"

The girl's eyes narrowed as she considered Audrey's question. "The car's a rental, so you aren't from here. How do you know Sister Agatha?"

Smart kid, poor choices. Audrey had seen that more than enough times. "I lived here. Off and on—mostly on—for eighteen years."

Teddy grimaced. "That blows."

"It wouldn't have been my first choice," Audrey admitted. "But I am grateful."

Teddy crossed her arms sullenly. "Seriously? You're going to give me the 'be grateful' b.s.?"

"No, I'm not. Where are you trying to go?"

The girl's eyes focused downward on her hands. She was picking at the skin next to her thumbnail. "Away. Just…away."

"Why don't you come out of there so we can talk?" Audrey suggested.

"We're talking now," Teddy pointed out.

"Fine. Then I'm coming in."

"Your reverse psychology isn't going to work with me."

"Please. Last thing I am is someone's counselor." Audrey slid into the seat next to the girl who rolled her eyes before eyeing the blonde closely.

"Do you have any kids?"

"No."

"Do you want one?" Teddy asked, only half joking.

"I live in a one-room apartment. I don't really do the domestic thing."

"You don't live with him?" Teddy asked, pointing her thumb in Nathan's direction.

"No."

"Oh. Never mind then."

"I'm just going to …" Nathan pointed toward the house. "Yeah."

_Unbelievable_. The man who would take a bullet and not even blink wouldn't take on a teenage girl. Oh, he was so getting razzed later. "You do know he's too old for you," Audrey stated, not waiting for Nathan to be out of earshot.

"Now maybe, but in a couple of years, he won't be."

And Nathan began to walk more quickly.

"Yes," Audrey laughed, "he will. So what's the deal? Why are you trying to take off?"

"What do you care?"

"I've been there. Remember?"

Teddy rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. "I have a little brother I hardly ever get to see."

All bark, very little bite.

"Where is he?" Audrey asked.

"He lives with a family in town."

"But you're here," Audrey replied, more so to herself than anyone.

With exaggerated awe, Teddy replied, "Gee, miss, no wonder you're a detective."

Audrey cringed. "God, do I sound that obnoxious when I'm sarcastic?"

"Look, you were the one stating the obvious. Sarcasm is perfectly reasonable under those circumstances. You were totally asking for it."

She made a point, but Audrey wasn't about to concede that to the kid. "I was thinking aloud. There's a difference. Will you tell me about him?"

Teddy met Audrey's eyes and held her gaze, her own resolve wavering. Finally, she took a deep breath and began to unload on the stranger. "His name is Sam. I'd do anything for him. Actually, I tried. It wasn't enough."

"What happened?" Audrey gently prodded.

Teddy willed the tears that were beginning to sting her eyes to go away. What was she thinking anyway? Talking about this with the blonde? What good did talking ever do anyway? "Seriously, why do you care?"

"Because I know what's it's like to grow up without your family with you. I know what it's like to wonder where they are, what they're doing…"

And damn if Teddy didn't believe the woman. "Our dad took off before Sammy was born. It was tough, but my mom held us together. She worked two jobs. I kept Sammy after school. Fed him. Played with him. Got him ready for bed. I even taught him to read. He's such a smart boy."

"What changed?"

"Mom didn't come home one day. She called, said she was going away for a few days to clear her head. A few days turned into a few weeks and now who knows? I waited, tried to carry on as usual, and we managed for a few weeks. I got Sammy ready for school, made sure he got there, picked him up after, helped him with homework, made him dinner, and tried to come up with a good excuse for why Mom wasn't there."

"You must've been exhausted."

Teddy shrugged. "I could've kept it up, but I got in trouble for truancy when Sam had the flu. And when the truancy officer showed up at our apartment and there was no sign of our mom, that set everything in motion."

"I'm sorry."

"He's being fostered with some rich family, and I'm—well, you see where I am."

"Getting in trouble isn't going to help him any."

"I can't let Sam think that I've left him, too."

"Teddy, I'm sure he doesn't."

The girl looked away in disgust. "You don't understand. Up until they took him from me, we had never spent a night apart."

"Have you heard from your mom?"

Teddy shook her head. "I think she's gotten mixed up in some stuff. I don't know where she is."

"What can you tell me about the family Sam is staying with?"

* * *

Sister Frances's face blanched as she looked out the window of the orphanage toward the parked car. "I thought she was upstairs, sick in bed! This is the last straw!"

Nathan held out his hand to halt the nun. "Give 'em a few minutes. Let 'em talk. Audrey has a way of helping people."

"That girl. I just don't know what we're going to do with her. She's defiant. She lies more easily than she tells the truth."

"I think she's scared."

"But she has everything she could possibly need here."

"Does she?" Nathan asked.

Sister Frances opened her mouth to respond, thought better of it, and closed it again. All she could do was walk out onto the porch and wait.

* * *

A few minutes later, Audrey and Teddy walked toward the porch of the stone house where Nathan and Sister Frances stood.

When Teddy reached the nun, she said, "I would like to apologize to you, Sister Frances. I pretended to be sick and then I tried to sneak away."

"Child, your actions are serious." Sister Frances was firm but not harsh, Audrey noted. Underlying her words, she could see the genuine concern in the nun's eyes coupled with weariness.

"I know, and I'm willing to accept the consequences of my actions."

Sister Frances was positively dumbfounded. She had been gearing herself up for a battle of wills with the teen, but Teddy's deference eliminated some of her earlier indignation.

"We will discuss this further, but I do accept your apology, Theodora."

Teddy looked to Audrey. "You'll try?"

"I'll do my best," Audrey promised.

"Thank you." Without another word, Teddy rushed toward Audrey and threw her arms around her.

Audrey patted the girl's back. "Don't thank me just yet."

Nathan looked at Audrey quizzically. What had she promised?

* * *

"You were good with her," Nathan commented after Sister Frances and Teddy went inside.

Audrey shoved her hands in the pocket of her corduroy jacket. "Eh, I don't do the kid thing very well."

"You could've fooled me."

Audrey's eyes scanned the field as they walked to the car. In the air, she caught a whiff of cow patty, and the years melted away. She was sixteen again, daydreaming while finishing chores. "It's hard to be her age. All the other girls have their moms to show them the way. Teddy was trying to be a mom to her little brother, and now they're separated."

"Parker?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're kind of incredible." He brought up his hand to caress her cheek lightly and she leaned into the touch, wanting to be closer to him. Without another word, he leaned in and brushed his nose against her cheek, following the path his fingertips had taken. Their noses bumped affectionately and their eyes slipped closed, as they reveled in their proximity.

"Nathan," she murmured before he brushed her lips lightly, their breaths mingling for a moment. Her world was off-kilter, a haze of gratification and anticipation. She wanted the moment to last—uncomplicated, beautiful. They were just a man and a woman. Nathan. Audrey. No identity crisis. No Troubles sucking the oxygen from around them. Just a kiss between them, just hope. Love.

She loved him.

She was in love with him.

It sneaked up on her, picking up its intensity like the whispering fall wind around them.

Audrey's hand came up and caressed the back of his neck gently, making his entire body shudder in response. He pressed closer, his hands on her hips and her back against the passenger door.

With a sigh, he broke the kiss and leaned down, his forehead against hers. "Can't get over it. It's nice to be able to do this in public."

"It's nice to do this, in general," she replied, her hands against his chest.

He backed off slightly, realizing their location. While they weren't in Haven enduring the watchful eyes of just about everyone there, it was almost certainly uncouth to make out in the driveway of a Catholic orphanage.

"You're making this hard. Difficult," he amended.

"Good."

With a half-smile, Nathan succumbed to one last kiss before he reached for the latch next to Audrey and opened the car door for her. "So what did you promise Teddy to try to do?"

Audrey looked at him sideways, a glint in her eye. "Are you hungry at all?"

"I suppose I could eat. Keep my strength up."

"Which you're _so_ going to need later."

At that, Nathan's brows shot up and Audrey grinned wickedly.

"What does this have to do with Teddy?"

"You'll see."

* * *

A few minutes later, the duo walked into Pies and Pints. The rustic, old-world charm of the restaurant struck Nathan as antithetical to middle-of-America Ohio. Indeed, it seemed like it had been plucked from a Mediterranean island, with its stucco walls, fresco paintings, carved furniture, and red-tiled roof.

"This place hasn't changed much," Audrey noted.

"Did you come here often?"

"You could say that. I waitressed here in high school."

Add that to the list of things Nathan discovered about Audrey on this trip. For some reason, he couldn't quite picture the actual waitressing part, though he could imagine her fumbling attempts at making small talk with customers.

God help the customer who crossed the line with her.

A hostess wearing a peasant blouse and black skirt greeted them. "Welcome to Pies and Pints. How many are in your party tonight?"

"Two," Nathan replied.

"Right this way, please."

The young hostess showed Nathan and Audrey to a booth. "Is this all right?" she asked.

"It's fine," Audrey replied, her eyes darting over the dining room.

The hostess set down two menus. "Your server will be here in just a moment."

"You looking for someone?" Nathan asked after the hostess retreated to her station.

"Yes. No." Audrey replied focusing her eyes on her companion. "I kind of wish I could high-five my sixteen year old self, though."

"I'd like to see that," Nathan chuckled. "Why?"

"I'm feeling really good right now, and you're a huge part of that. I just wish young Audrey Parker could've known what it was like to have someone like you in her life."

"But those experiences made you the person you are today. The good, the bad."

"Yeah, but at the time, I thought I could've done with a lot less character building, you know?"

Nathan frowned. "I'm sorry, Audrey."

"What? No. I'm fine. It wasn't all bad."

Nathan didn't get the chance to respond because their server arrived at the table. "Hi folks. My name is Kelly, and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you out with an appetizer or something from the bar?"

Audrey looked at Nathan, mock seriousness filling her voice. "I know you trust me with your life, but do you trust me with your beer?"

"Sure."

Audrey turned back to the server. "Do you have Fat Heads on tap?"

"We do."

"We'll take a couple pints and an order of bruschetta to get us started."

"I'll get that right out to you," the waitress replied before leaving the table.

Audrey fingered through the menu. "I wonder if it still tastes the same. The food's good, but after working here, I couldn't eat Italian for years."

"Are you about to ruin Italian for yourself all over again?"

"I've had enough distance," she reasoned.

"Any recommendations?"

She perused the menu. "Crisp bacon, gorgonzola and arugula pizza. If I start to go all Pavlov's dogs on you, you'll know why."

"When in Xenia…" Nathan studied her. "So when I asked if you were looking for someone…"

"Right. I was hoping you hadn't noticed. So, uh, Stephanie Mittermeier's family owned this place, and if I'm lucky, they still do."

"Mittermeier. That's a good Italian name if ever I heard one," Nathan deadpanned.

"About as Italian as Wuornos."

"At least the Mittermeiers won't be mistaken for a serial killer."

Audrey grimaced. "I'm sorry. I was nervous, tried to be funny, and failed miserably."

But the name _Mittermeier_ stuck with Nathan. It was somehow familiar. "Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't she the one who dared you to walk across the top of the swing set when you were a kid?"

"Yeah."

"And you fell and broke your wrist."

"That's the one."

"Made you hate heights."

"Hey, I braved the Ferris wheel with you."

"Only because you were goaded into it. I thought you hated her. 'She devil' comes to mind."

"It was kind of a mutual thing. She used to taunt me for having no parents, and I stole Josh Hopkins from her last time I was in town. I mean, for like, two seconds. It was funny, really. I spent all this time in high school crushing on him, and once I got him, meh."

Nathan's brows rose.

Audrey shrugged. "I was eighteen. Kid stuff. Besides, she's married to him now. They have a foster son…"

"Whose sister is Teddy," Nathan pieced together. "And the she-devil, that's who is going to help you with Teddy?"

"I didn't say this was going to be easy."

"Let me get this straight. The same girl who gave you hell for being in an orphanage is allowed to foster children?"

"She used what she could to hurt me, and I used what I could to hurt her."

"And yet you worked in her family's restaurant?"

"That was not intentional. I worked here _before_ her parents bought it and stayed on after. They were good to me. Honest. Hardworking. Their daughter…not so much."

"So the plan is to hang around here on the off chance she shows up?"

"No. The plan is to eat a great meal, and while we're here, we'll find out if the family still owns it."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Fat Heads and bruschetta," Kelly, the waitress, interrupted as she removed two frothy glasses of amber liquid from her tray and a platter of bruschetta, along with two smaller plates. "Have you had a chance to look over the menu?"

Audrey looked to Nathan, who nodded his assent for her to order for them. "We'd like the crisp bacon, gorgonzola and arugula pizza. Thin crust."

Kelly made a note on her order pad. "I'll get that order right in. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Actually, there is," Audrey replied. "I grew up in the area but have been away for several years. I was wondering if the Mittermeiers still own the restaurant."

"They retired a couple of years back. Their daughter runs the place now."

_Just like that, indeed_. "How is Stephanie?" Audrey asked.

Kelly looked uncomfortable. "She's…fine."

"Does she spend much time here?"

"Actually, yes, she does. In fact, she normally stops by in the evening to check on things."

"When she shows up, could you send her my way?"

"If your service has not been satisfactory, please give me the chance to make it right," Kelly stammered.

"You're doing fine," Nathan assured the girl.

"Stephanie is an old…friend of mine. We grew up together but lost touch over the years. I'd really like to reconnect."

"I can't guarantee when she'll be here," Kelly explained apologetically.

"We've got time," Nathan said.

At that, Audrey looked to Nathan and mouthed, "Thank you." He was so incredibly patient, particularly considering this was yet another one of her wild-haired ideas.

As it turned out, they did not have to wait long, for within a few minutes, they noticed their server speaking with a dark haired woman and pointing in their direction.

With perfect posture and the graceful movements of a dancer, the woman made her way to Audrey and Nathan's booth. "Audrey Parker! This is a surprise!" The brunette sounded positively enthusiastic as she greeted Audrey, but the disdain in her eyes could not be veiled.

"Nathan, this is Stephanie Mittermeier."

Stephanie held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers to show a rather audaciously large ring. "Actually, it's Hopkins now. I married Josh. You remember him, right?" The saccharine sweet voice was laced with venom. Audrey recognized it all too well.

And just like that, she was ten years younger, embroiled in a battle of wills against the she-devil. "Who?" Audrey replied blankly. At Stephanie's disgusted expression, Audrey shook her head and said in an equally, overly sweet voice, "I'm sorry. Bad joke. Stephanie, this is Nathan Wuornos, my…partner."

"How forward thinking of you," Stephanie commented. "Of course, there are those of us who prefer the bonds of matrimony to being," she lifted her fingers to make air quotes, "'partners'."

Audrey's eyes narrowed. "Funny. The lack of a wedding ring never was a problem for you before."

"Audrey and I work together at the Haven, Maine, Police Department," Nathan supplied, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You're a little out of your jurisdiction, aren't you?" Stephanie asked.

Audrey replied sharply, "We aren't here on police business."

Stephanie expelled the tiniest of huffs. "I can't fathom what would ever compel you to come back here. You have no connection to Xenia."

Audrey had an image of an old western movie flash in her mind's eye. She could almost picture a showdown between two gunslingers at high noon.

'_This town ain't big enough for the both of us.'_

The absurd thought brought a chuckle burbling to the surface. She had to fight it down. This was surreal. Forget everything she and Nathan had faced in Haven. Seeing Stephanie Mittermeier—no, Hopkins—for the first time in a decade seemed a far less pleasant problem to solve. And what she was hoping to convince the woman who stood before her was an impossible task.

"I've just been to St. Mary's."

Stephanie sniffed. "Oh. Home sweet home, then."

"Something like that."

"I never imagined you were all that close with the nuns. No offense, Audrey, but you were never the holy type."

"We all come from somewhere. I'm just trying to find out where that is for me."

The sour expression on Stephanie's face softened. "Well, then. I hope you find the answers you're looking for."

"But..."

"No buts," Stephanie shook her head. "I know you and I didn't always see eye to eye growing up…"

"Every chance you got, you gave me hell."

"You didn't exactly make my life a picnic either," Stephanie defended. "But I am sorry that I wasn't always kind to you about your situation."

"I met someone today. Teddy Green. Do you know her?"

Stephanie shuddered. "With a name like that and an attitude to match, she's impossible to forget. She has shown up at our house a few times."

"You have custody of her little brother, Sam."

"You haven't changed a bit. Still as nosey as ever."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Stephanie glared at her.

"That's what I wanted to talk with you about." Audrey took a deep breath before laying out the situation to her nemesis.

* * *

"The pizza was unusual," Nathan commented as he opened the door to their room at the bed and breakfast. It was an innocuous comment, bland, and completely contradictory to the nerves he was sure he would feel fluttering in his stomach, if only he could actually feel.

But Audrey did make him feel. It was more than the press of her warmth, the tactile sensations returning to his dead nerves whenever she touched him. It was the hope she sprang in him, the joy he could find even in the mundane when he was with her, the way she made him laugh, the way she challenged him. And he'd seen a side of her tonight he had never seen before. Audrey Prudence Parker could be catty. Watching the interplay between her and Stephanie Mittermeier was like watching a game of ping-pong. The back and forth was head spinning, a bit uncomfortable, immature, and oddly amusing at the same time.

This was the woman he loved, decidedly imperfect. And yet, perfect for him. _He wanted a life with her_. The thought seized him. He wanted to give her the home she'd never had, the family she'd never experienced.

_You're getting ahead of yourself, Wuornos. The only future you've discussed with Parker is an apocalyptical one, not the white picket fence, two kids, and a dog scenario. _

And there were no guarantees. There never were, of course, but with her, with the questions about her past, who's to say where those answers would lead her?

_Stop over thinking. Just enjoy being with her._

"Think it'll keep up your strength?" Audrey asked, looking over her shoulder knowingly at him.

"Guess we'll find out." The words sounded far more confident than he felt.

The room, which had seemed so spacious earlier, suddenly seemed much smaller. Audrey sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her shoes and socks. The scar on the bottom of her foot caught her attention.

Was this fair to Nathan, to draw him even closer when she had no idea of what being Lucy Ripley meant?

The shift in their relationship was one she welcomed, which was odd considering a few weeks ago, she never would have thought they would be on the brink of so much more.

But she _had_ been someone else, lived an entirely different existence, and now it was coming back. Who had Lucy been to the Chief? It was so hard to imagine a romantic relationship with Garland Wuornos, but nearly thirty years ago, who knows? And Ephraim Brand? He held so many answers to her past, but Audrey couldn't help but think those answers would come at a steep price.

And then there was Nathan. He wanted nothing more from her than to be there _for_ her, to be _with_ her. He had been her best friend first. Sometimes she thought he knew her better than she knew herself.

"I still can't believe you pulled that off."

Audrey was so lost in her own thoughts, Nathan's words only served to confuse her. It must have shown on her face because Nathan elaborated. "With Stephanie. Not the shoes."

"Oh, right. I don't know that I have entirely, but maybe it will help. Teddy keeping Sam after school everyday instead of daycare, at least it's something."

"It'll mean the world to Teddy," Nathan opined.

"Am I nosey?" Audrey asked abruptly.

"Yes," Nathan replied, perhaps a bit too quickly for Audrey's taste. "Why does it bother you what Stephanie thinks?" he challenged.

"I'm not bothered."

"If you say so."

"I'm not bothered," Audrey reiterated leaning back on her hands. "I'm _not_. Stephanie is kind of like my Duke, only in a shinier package. She pushes my buttons."

"But you're not bothered."

"Okay, so she said something."

Nathan smirked. "She said a lot of things."

"True. I kind of think she liked hearing herself talk. But she said I have no real connection to Xenia. She's right. I have no family. Only a few friends left here. Lucy was far more connected to Haven. Me too. So why here?"

"Come again?"

"Why Xenia, Ohio? Why was I brought up _here_?"

"Why not? Seems just as good as any place to grow up."

"But someone must've brought me here. Maybe I brought myself here. As Lucy, I mean. But why? My life would be so much easier if I'd leave all the why's alone."

"The fact that you ask why is what makes you a good cop. The nosiness helps, too."

He sat next to her on the bed. "Is that why you entered law enforcement? A natural curiosity?"

The weight shift on the bed—his _nearness_—made Audrey suddenly feel flushed. She tried not to look at him—his straight nose, the curve of his lips, his perfect chin—too distracting. "Not really. I wanted to make a difference, which I guess makes me one walking, talking cliché."

"No, it doesn't. You do make a difference. Sometimes I think back to what it was like before you showed up, and it seems…" Nathan's voice trailed off as he stared up at the ceiling.

She dared to look at him. "It seems…," Audrey encouraged.

"Wrong somehow, like something was missing. And I don't mean the sense of touch," Nathan quickly added, meeting her gaze. "I don't know. Just…I kept thinking…is this all? And now, I-" His teeth grazed his bottom lip as he hesitated.

"What were you going to say?"

Nathan sheepishly admitted, "I look forward to every day with you."

"You care about me," Audrey responded in a sing-song way, her voice teasing.

"You know I do." His tone was far more serious than hers, quickly sobering her near-giddy banter.

"How long?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, a small smile curling his lips. "You got under my skin from the beginning." Her annoyance—not hysteria, _annoyance_—over being in a car halfway hanging over the side of a cliff was the first sign that she wasn't like anyone else he'd ever met. Then there was her fascination with the unexplained and the odd, coupled with the fact she didn't take crap from anyone, all of which served to further intrigued him. "I like your sarcasm, the way you handle yourself. How you care about people. You're awkward as hell with them," he added with a grin, which she met with a good-natured eye rolling. "But you care. Like today with Teddy. Not sure when it became more. I mean, I may have noticed you when I cut you out of that cocoon and saw what was under all those pantsuits you used to wear."

"You told me you didn't look." She poked his arm.

"Might've downplayed that. Or when we went to the opening of the Second Chance bistro and you wore that blue dress and," he smiled, "realized you'd left on the price tag."

"Not one of my finer moments."

"You're beautiful," he said quietly, "but you're not wrapped up in your looks. You're smart, but it's not at the expense of others."

"But you never acted on any of this, not until a few days ago."

"Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Say what?"

"I couldn't…I couldn't just sweep you into my arms. First off, I'm pretty sure you would've tried to kick my ass."

"Succeeded."

"Tried, not succeeded," Nathan countered, which elicited a grin from her. "And you've become too important to our town, to me." With that, he took a deep breath. "I couldn't risk scaring you off."

"I'm not that skittish."

"I never had any reason to believe that what I feel for you might be reciprocated until Lady Cassandra and the visions."

"And just what _do_ you feel for me?" The words had come out quickly, but immediately, Audrey wished she could reel them back in. She hopped off the bed and walked to the French doors to pull the curtain closed in an attempt to regain her emotional balance. "Okay. Rewind. I don't want to put you on the spot. I'm not good at this."

"No, you're really not," he conceded as he followed her across the room. Standing behind her, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her neck. His arms wrapped around her waist, enveloping her in his warmth. "But neither am I. Didn't you tell me on more than one occasion that I've got no game?"

Audrey lifted her fingertips to her lips. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to amend that statement." She turned to face him. "We've complicated things. We've joked about the office pool—or I've joked, anyway—but I don't want to harm your career or reputation."

"Parker, we live in a town where kids can cause objects to spontaneously combust, men can age 60 years in a matter of hours, and stuffed animals come to life. I think my reputation is the least of my worries."

"I thought—well, the other morning when you took me home, you were worried about it."

"Seems short-sighted now."

"But after everything that's happened in the last few days, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to just turn around and never look back. More than anything, I don't want to hurt you, and I'm so scared that's what I'm going to do without even trying."

"So are you telling me you're going to walk away?" he asked, his breath hitching.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not that good of a person."

"_Audrey_," he gently admonished.

"You have been the one person that I absolutely trust. You put up with my craziness, all the questions I have about myself. You've kept me going when I've wanted to give up. You make me laugh. You're a good man." She grinned wickedly. "And you're also hot."

"Hot-hot or fever-hot? Just for clarification purposes. Because last time it was fever-hot."

Audrey saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. Wordlessly, she rested her hands on his waist, her fingers slipping in his belt loops, and her thumbs brushing the flesh of his abdomen. She looked up at him lazily, her desire mingling with his. "I want this. I want _you._"

With that small encouragement, his hands went to the hem of her shirt. He could feel her warmth and hear the catch in her breath as his hands dipped under the shirt and his fingers brushed against her skin, feather-light. A throaty giggle escaped from her.

"Ticklish," she explained.

"I'll have to remember that." He began to slide his hands upward, bringing her shirt with them. Audrey lifted her arms over her head making it is easier for Nathan to remove the article. His eyes took her in as she stood before him clad in a navy blue bra, its darkness a deep contrast to her pale porcelain skin. Her breasts were not large, but with each breath she took, they rose slightly, peeking further out of the cups. Need zipped through him. She was stunning. Her smooth skin, her taut abdomen, the little freckle near her belly button…just _beautiful_.

Noting his look of appreciation, as well as his growing bulge, she reached behind herself and unfastened the clasp of the undergarment before tossing it aside. With eagerness, he placed his palm under one of her mounds, coaxing it into a rosy peak with his thumb. He dipped his head, taking the peak into his mouth, his tongue darting over and around.

Audrey's small hands twined with his hair, urging him closer even as she arched against him. More. More. _More_.

A tiny protest escaped from her lips as his mouth traveled downward, trailing kisses along her abdomen until he reached her belly button. He knelt, almost in reverence; all the while his hands lingered over the button of her jeans. He looked up, saw the slight parting of her lips, and then their eyes locked. Wordlessly, she touched his face, tenderly, willing all she felt _for_ him to be literally felt _by_ him. He turned his head, brushing his lips over the inside of one wrist.

This was really going to happen. They were going to do this. It had been so long for him, so long since he'd felt anything—especially down there—except for those few nights when his dreams were spurred by memories of how it felt to find release, to be a whole man and not the ghost of one.

And Audrey, the woman he loved, was offering herself to him. What if—what if he'd forgotten how to make love? What if he lost control and it ended too quickly?

"Are you nervous?" Audrey's words sliced through his thoughts. There was no teasing, no challenge to the question, only sincerity.

Damn. She'd read him like a book. "Me? No. You?"

"What? No." She threw him a look like he was crazy, but it quickly dissolved as she grudgingly admitted with a smile, "Okay. Yes. Maybe a little."

"Me too." Nathan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I don't want to mess this up."

"We aren't going to mess this up, though I can draw you a diagram if you'd like."

"Not necessary," he replied huskily as he pulled apart the enclosure on the denim she wore and methodically slid her pants and navy panties to the floor. She stepped from the heap, and Nathan drank her in. She was petite, but the gentle swell of her hips and the firmness of her slender thighs made him quite certain she already held power over him.

"I want to feel every inch of you." His voice was thick with emotion, with want.

"You're overdressed for that."

But her words and thoughts were quickly forgotten as Nathan pressed tiny kisses along her knee. Slowly working his way up her leg, he flicked the tip of his tongue against the smooth skin of her inner thigh. Audrey half-gasped, half-moaned as her legs began to quiver. He was close. So, so close. Not close enough. Not…_oohhh_.

* * *

Sister Agatha considered her cup of tepid tea. The drink was more a drink of habit than enjoyment. As a young girl in Connecticut, her mother—eccentric by most standards—swore by the liquid. Of course, her mother's habit was to read the leaves left in the bottom of the cup for hints of what was to come. Agatha had no such belief in the supernatural, other than, of course, divine miracles. At least, that had been her stance until twenty-seven years ago when she found that the world was full of the unexplainable. "I never expected that she would come back," she told Sister Frances.

"I did as was required."

Agatha nodded. "Yes, I'm sure you did, Sister Frances. The plan was put in place for just such an occasion. Did she come alone?"

"No. She brought a man with her. Mid-thirties, I would say, and smitten with her. Mr. Wuornos was his name."

"Wuornos?" The cup slipped from Sister Agatha's hand and crashed to the floor sending shards in all directions.

* * *

**_To be continued..._**

An expanded version (rated M) of this chapter is available as "Phoenix Rising – the Outtakes" also here at this site. It delves into a far more detailed account of Nathan and Audrey's night together and is definitely not for the kiddies.


	29. Paradise Lost

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the continued support!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: "Paradise Lost"**

"_It is called _Forbidden Fruit_."_

"_I can see why." Lucy stepped back from the easel and found herself practically pacing around the painting, trying to study it from different perspectives. What it lacked in old world charm it more than made up for in passion, intensity. She could imagine the artist had profoundly felt the loss of paradise himself. That personal connection was something she thought she lacked in her own artwork. It was one thing to be technically proficient, but to actually feel the subject, to become one with the piece, was another matter altogether._

_Ephraim's fingertips moved down her bare arms. "In all your years, have you ever seen quite as spectacular a rendering of the original sin?"_

_Lucy's eyes followed the brushstrokes, down to the deep red of the apple, and felt a chill. "It seems to almost come off the canvas."_

"_I thought so, as well." Seeing her goosebumps, he wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned back against his broad chest. Safe. Strong. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of pursuit, of attentiveness, romance. _

_But she wasn't quite lost in his touches yet. The painting—and what it represented—troubled her. It tugged at that minute part of her that by nature looked for the what-if, the catch, the fly in the ointment. "I wonder if it was worth it. To gain knowledge only to lose paradise."_

_His lips trailed along her neck, even as he felt for the zipper on the back of her dress. "It's human nature to want what we cannot have. We lust for it, would kill for it. Fortunately, I already have my heart's desire."_

_The dress fell to a heap on the floor and she turned to face him. His eyes drank her in. "You're beautiful."_

_Lucy was not shy about her body, but sometimes his attentiveness could be overwhelming. "You say that now. We'll see how you feel in fifty years when I'm old and gray."_

_His hand found hers and toyed with the large diamond ring she wore. "Fifty. A hundred fifty. It makes no difference. You will be beautiful to me. Young."_

"_Right," she laughed. "I'll always be younger than you, but young? Not quite."_

"_Marry me tonight."_

_She protested lightly, not taking his words seriously. "We can't get married tonight. It's late and it's too soon!"_

_He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before saying, "I adore your contradictions. How can it be late and soon?"_

_She groaned in exasperation as she pulled her hair up in a makeshift bun and padded to the large bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. "There is no one to marry us this late at night. Besides, don't you want to enjoy the engagement? It's too soon." She grabbed his over-sized bathrobe._

_He followed her and leaned against the counter next to where she stood. "It's not soon enough. You let me make love to you. Why won't you let me marry you?" She opened her mouth to protest again, but he lifted his finger and placed it over her lips. "Consider the painting a wedding present."_

_She laughed. "You are so old-fashioned."_

"_And you are so thoroughly modern."_

_Her blue eyes considered his green ones. "How can I say no to you?"_

"_That's just it. You can't."_

* * *

"_I'm going to town." The whirlwind had settled._

"_The police station again?" Ephraim asked as he sat up in bed. He grimaced slightly._

"_Your back?" she asked upon seeing his expression. She walked to the bedside and pressed her hand against his skin. "The scar is so warm."_

"_Your touch improves my outlook."_

"_I still wish you would see the specialist I consulted."_

_Ephraim looked at her patiently. "There is no specialist for this, and you never did answer my question."_

"_You noticed," Lucy replied with a wry grin._

"_I notice everything about you." He spoke with the intensity that she found so irresistible when they had first met. _

_She nodded. "I am going to station."_

"_A dreary place and too early. I wish you could find the inspiration to do more than police sketches."_

_Lucy frowned. "You told me you wanted me to get involved with the community, so I'm involved. It's quite different from New York."_

"_I didn't rescue you from the dredges of the East Village for you to squander your talents. Have you even painted anything lately?"_

"_First, you didn't rescue me. I was doing quite fine on my own before you started throwing lavish gifts my way—"  
_

"_And you threw them back in my face, as I recall."_

_At that, she had to smile. The beginning of their relationship had not been without its bumps. "Second, I provide a valuable service to this community."_

"_Garland Wuornos seems to think so."_

_She paused. "Why did you just do that?"_

"_Do what?"_

"_The way you said his name. 'Garland Wuornos'" She imitated his accent as she said the name, echoing the distaste Ephraim exhibited. She flopped down on the bed beside him. "Are you jealous?"_

"_Of a man who wears a polyester police uniform and is barely intelligible when he speaks? No."_

"_You are," Lucy grinned. "You shouldn't be, you know. My heart only belongs to you. My heart. My body."_

_He pulled her atop him to straddle his hips. "Your soul?"_

"_Well, that I don't just give away to anybody." She wriggled away from him, got up off the bed, walked to the ample closet, and pulled out a patterned dress. He watched as she zipped it. While modest in coverage, it hugged her slender form in all the right places. _

"_You are really leaving?"_

"_I told you. I have work to do at the police station."_

"_Lucy, I insist you stay out of harm's way and, for God's sake, don't do anything to draw attention to yourself." _

"_Ephraim, I can't ignore when someone has a…problem."_

"_For your preservation and mine, you should."_

* * *

_When Lucy entered the bullpen, her eyes immediately went to Garland's desk, but he wasn't there. Instead, a woman whose movements struck Lucy as graceful stood near it, leaving a note of some kind on the desk. A little boy sat in the office chair spinning in circles._

_She didn't have the time wrong, did she? _

_Lucy approached the desk, suddenly finding herself very curious about the lovely woman who, on closer inspection, was identical to the woman in the framed photo on Garland's desk. _

_This must be Holly._

_With all the putting out of fires—literally and figuratively—that she and Garland did, it was easy to forget that he had a life outside of the Troubles, just as she did. He was a man with a family, and what a beautiful family it was._

_The woman immediately greeted her. "Hi, you must be Lucy. I've heard so much about you. I'm Holly. And this," Garland's wife looked down at the little boy who was spinning in his father's swivel chair, "is Nathan." Holly stopped the movement of the chair and was rewarded with a frown._

_Lucy knelt and extended her hand. The little boy hesitantly took it. "Pleased to meet you, Nathan. I'm a friend of your dad's. Can I tell you a secret?"_

_That perked the little boy's attention. "What?"_

"_I used to like to twirl in these chairs, too."_

"_Will you spin me?" he asked._

_Lucy looked to Holly, who nodded. _

"_Sure. Hold on tight." With that, Lucy spun the chair, much to the delight of the little boy who laughed without reservation. _

"_Faster! Faster!" he demanded._

"_We should go." The gravelly voice cut through the air, directed at Lucy. "Heard there were some strange things happening at the Glendower compound." No hello. No acknowledgment of his family. _

"_Garland—" Holly's voice was almost plaintive, as though she wanted to say more. "Be careful out there."_

"_Always am," he replied, as he grabbed his hat off corner of his chair._

"_Except when you're not," Holly retorted with a melancholic smile. She pressed the note she had been writing into his hand, and he quickly stuffed it into his breast pocket._

"_Bye, Daddy! Bye, Lucy!"_

_Lucy looked back at the little boy, whose toothless grin made her heart clench. But it was the expression on Holly's face that gave her pause._

* * *

"_Your family is beautiful."_

"_Yep." Rain clouds were forming overhead. The roads to the Glendower compound were not easy to traverse. Nasty weather wouldn't make it any easier. He reached for a cigarette, lit it, and let the nicotine calm his nerves. Between the hell-in-a-hand basket that Haven seemed to be dissolving into and the fight he'd had with Holly that morning, enjoying a cigarette was the least of his worries._

_She studied him, even as she pulled her coffee-colored hair back into a ponytail. _

"_What?" he halfway growled._

"_You shouldn't smoke. It says so right there on the package." She tapped her finger on the pack of cigarettes that sat on the seat between them._

"_It's either that or…"He didn't give voice to the alternative. Smoking calmed him. He wasn't going to apologize for it._

_A smile formed on her lips. "Does Holly like kissing a man who tastes like smoke?"_

"_Probably not."_

"_I know I wouldn't."_

"_Well, it doesn't look like you have anything to worry about, now do you, Lucy? Mr. Ripley doesn't smoke."_

"_You shouldn't call him that. Ephraim doesn't like the nickname."_

_Garland chuckled. "I know."_

* * *

Audrey stirred awake, though she tried to cling to the last remnants of the dreams, refusing to open her eyes just yet and completely push them from her consciousness.

The dream. No, _dreams_. Plural. Her mind had jumped from one to the other. No rhyme or reason.

But were they dreams? Dreams often had that surreal air, the not-quite-right-so-you-know-this-isn't-real quality. No, this felt real, so real. Memories. Been-there-done-that _bona fid_e memories.

More memories. Odd. It was as if she stood at the floodgate, her finger plugging the hole. If only she could pull out her finger, the water would rush out, the memories would rush out. But she was stuck.

She wasn't quite sure what to make of it. The fruit. Original sin. Paradise lost. Ephraim. He had hardly seemed a monster; as Lucy she had been in love, though he kept her off kilter. Lucy had liked that about him, that he wanted her but neither could quite tame the other.

And then there was Garland.

Lucy and Garland were teasing each other—and there was chemistry there—but it didn't seem to be anything romantic. Maybe Sally Harrington had misinterpreted. Hell, maybe she straight up lied.

But there was the look on Holly's face. Holly had not trusted Lucy, just as Ephraim had not trusted Garland.

And little Nathan. She did not want to think of him as a little boy, not when the night before, they had…

Audrey's eyes flew open, and the dreams began to leave her; all that remained were impressions, ghosts.

Daylight shone through the curtains. The air had a definite chill to it, but she was surrounded by warmth. Nathan. Her own personal furnace. She lay on her side, her back against his chest, no space between them. One of his arms was under her neck, wrapped around her shoulder. The other was looped around her waist.

This was an unfamiliar bed. Definitely not hers. The bed and breakfast. Xenia, Ohio.

Last night had really happened. Her sore muscles could attest to that, but this was soreness that she actually welcomed.

Sex had never been like this. In Audrey's past, it had ranged from nice to meh, but never wow. Never I-can't-get-enough-of-you. She'd always had the attitude that if she wanted to get the job done right, she had to do it herself. Not so with Nathan. For a man who was out of practice (and nervous about being out of practice), he certainly knew what he was doing.

And she loved him. She knew it before they had made love. If things had not gone well in the bedroom, it wouldn't have made her stop loving him. But it sure didn't hurt that she'd had the best toe-curling, soul-shattering sex of her life, over and over, each time better than the last. A week ago, who'd have thought?

She lightly rubbed the hand on her waist as she felt him stir.

"Hi."

"Hi." He nuzzled her neck, eliciting a ticklish giggle from her. "You okay this morning?" Their lovemaking had alternated between being tender and vigorous. She had assured him that he had not hurt her, but…

"More than okay," she promised him. "I'm happy." It wasn't a word she used often, but it felt right. _This_ felt right. The physical connection they shared had been intense, but it only punctuated the emotional one. There had been no declarations of love as they lay entangled in the sheets, talking about life and hopes and laughing at each other's stories. The lack of a declaration hadn't mattered. She was certain Nathan knew she loved him, just as she was certain Nathan loved her, even without the words.

"Same here. I think I'd forgotten what happiness is until you came along." And he laid it on the line. It wasn't something he often did, which made her appreciate its significance all the more.

"It was my sarcasm. People don't understand the connection between sarcasm and happiness."

"I love you, Audrey."

No sarcasm there. She didn't need the words, but the words were beautiful, nonetheless, as they fell from his lips, and she imagined his voice was velvet, caressing her with those beautiful words.

"I know." Smartass. She couldn't help herself.

Her cheeky reply drew a chuckle from him. "You're a brat."

"I know that, too." She rubbed her foot against his leg. "I'm in love with you. First time in my life that I've ever felt like this." Was it kindness or cruelty to tell him that? It was easier not to look at him, not to bare her soul while staring into those eyes. In an odd way, she didn't want to see his joy because she was scared that one day, her past would truly and finally catch up to her and all she'd see in his eyes would be pain. If she didn't see the joy, would that make the pain easier to take?

She needed answers. No doubt about that. But she had something—someone—worth fighting for.

His hand dipped below her waist. She drew in a breath from pleasure, not surprise. She always knew she liked his hands. Strong. Long, graceful fingers. But as one hand went lower, she was quite certain his were the most spectacular hands ever.

Sometime later, even as their bodies stilled after their mutual pleasure, she could feel his heart pounding against her back. Steady. True. And she was safe, sure of herself, and in love. If there ever were a Trouble to freeze a moment in time, she would want it to be this moment.

"Nice way to wake up," she murmured, her breaths raspy.

"I'm still not convinced I am awake," he replied, grinning against her shoulder.

She squirmed away from him, her movements met with protest until she rolled over and pressed herself against him, this time face to face.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

A dam burst between them. He felt like he'd been tiptoeing around what he wanted for so long for fear of scaring her off. Now he was certain she was his addiction. "Like I can't get enough of you."

"We make a good team," she replied drowsily.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Need to sleep some more?" As he recalled, there wasn't much sleep going on the night before.

She was tired, but she didn't mind it. "We should get up, get ready. We told Sister Frances we'd be back by 9:30. Plus, I want to check in on Teddy."

But neither made a move to get up, to disentangle from the other.

Audrey groaned. "I have no willpower."

"Maybe just a little longer?" he suggested.

But sleep wasn't what he had in mind.

* * *

Ephraim Brand stared at the ceiling. The polished wood beams in his opulent bedchamber were lovely, a far cry from the thatched roof of his youth. He was warm, protected from the wind, the elements, protected from death, protected from life. Sometimes it was easy to forget his origins, but his past informed him, made him the man he had become.

Yes, the beams were lovely, though he would gladly give them up for the not nearly so lovely popcorn-finished ceiling of Lucy's apartment. It was a late 1970's decorating fad that Ephraim never fully embraced. He had laughed about it as Lucy proclaimed she liked the ceiling of her studio apartment when he'd commented on it the first time they lay in her piteously small bed. It hadn't been long before that he had found her scraping by as an artist and so full of life and fire. She was always identical in that way, no matter what she called herself. So vibrant. Audrey was the same.

It made the hunt that much more titillating. He had yet to catch her this time, but he would.

But Audrey was with Nathan Wuornos. Oh, she played coy when it came to their relationship, but a man would have to be blind to not see the way young Wuornos looked at her or the way she looked at him. The only piece of beautiful irony that made the whole sordid tale worthwhile was the knowledge that Garland Wuornos had to see it, too.

After all, it did not take much imagination to guess what they were doing on their trip to Ohio.

Twenty-seven years ago when Lucy disappeared, Garland Wuornos stood between him and the truth. All these years later, he still wasn't sure how Wuornos had done it, deprived him of her, triggered her resurgence, and ushered her away. But secrets had a way of coming out, and sometimes they were helped along.

Ephraim glanced at the clock. Any moment now, the bus should arrive at the station and on it, a man who had not stepped foot in Haven in many years would emerge, a return trip from Shawshank. Like a puzzle, the pieces would come together, with a little urging.

And yet Ephraim couldn't keep an errant thought from entering his mind. He wondered what the ceiling looked like where Audrey slept.

* * *

The towel slung low on Nathan's hips afforded Audrey quite a view. Droplets of water ran down his chest and disappeared into the cloth. They had taken separate showers; she was adamant they both had to get ready, but unfortunately, they kept getting sidetracked. _Look, don't touch_, she silently warned herself. This had never been a problem before. Of course, she had never experienced such satisfaction before, either.

Nathan caught Audrey's gaze and realized she was studying him with appreciation. He yanked at the towel and used it to wipe the water from his hair before running it over his chest and then tossing it to her, like a rock star casting a handkerchief off stage. She shot him a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look,' but her façade cracked and she broke down laughing when he winked at her. Sex had done wonders for Nathan's ego.

He rummaged through his overnight bag to find a pair of boxer briefs, jeans, and a Henley. In the process, a small foil packet fell out of the bag. Audrey picked it up and dropped it back into the bag, but not before seeing numerous foil-wrapped condoms.

She chuckled. "You were prepared."

"Hopeful," he replied pulling his underwear up his long legs and then adjusting himself.

"With all those, I'd go with optimistic."

He reached for his jeans. One foot in, then the other, until he lifted the material up to his waist and fastened his pants. _Such a shame_, she thought.

"As it turns out, I had reason to be." Oh, yes, he was definitely proud of himself.

"But would you have even been able to feel with one on?"

"Don't know. But you would have felt me. Thought maybe if nothing else, I could at least give you some pleasure."

"And see, it's answers like that which make me want to make sure you feel everything."

"I did." And he had. Her warmth. The softness of her skin. The strength of her body. The vibration of her laughter. The moisture of her unexpected tears as the intensity of the emotion built within her. The absolute bliss as he moved within her tight sheathe. The gentle breaths that she let out against his chest, his neck. Pressure building. Release. Ecstasy. Her fingertips running down the small of his back, ever-so-lightly. He'd never known anything like it. Whether he had become so much more sensitive to sexual pleasure having gone without it for so long or whether it was sexual compatibility with Audrey, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that even as he looked at her now pulling on a light blazer over her camisole, all he wanted to do was peel off the layers, the dark jeans, the tiny swath of fabric underneath, and lose himself in her again. He wanted to love her with every part of himself.

The night before—and this morning—they'd not used protection. That was a first for him, and when he had pumped his seed deep within her without any barriers, the act struck him as far more intimate. Before he had entered her the first time, she told him it was fine, but now he wondered if they had both been caught up in the moment. If they had created a child together, it probably wouldn't have been the most opportune time. Would either of them be able to fight the Troubles with an infant in tow? But the thought of a child with her made his heart melt a bit.

Holding the embodiment of their love.

Maybe someday.

For now, he intended to enjoy this newfound aspect of their partnership.

Audrey withdrew a thin, circular object from her bag. At first glance it looked like a compact, but when she opened it, Nathan could see pills all in a line and secured in place by plastic, minus a few that were missing. "I was prepared, too. I think the nuns would be very disappointed in me."

_That answers that question_, he thought to himself. "Not just for the Pill," Nathan replied with a crooked smile. "What we did last night and this morning…," he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, his words lost in the kiss.

"I don't have time for another shower," she said between kisses, though she had to admit that she wasn't exactly discouraging his hands from roving her body. When they broke the kiss, Audrey moved back, shaking her head and chuckling.

"What?" Nathan asked.

"It's true what they say. It's the quiet ones you have to look out for. You snuck up on me. I thought I was content to do my own thing. I knew you to be a great guy, but I just never…any thought of more, I always pushed aside. I thought friendship was all there was between us, and I didn't want to ruin that."

"And now?"

"I'm just thinking of the mechanics of kicking my own ass. How could I not see this—us—sooner? I'm not sure I would know how to go back to being just your friend, and that scares me."

"Why? We know how we feel."

"We've got a lot working against us," she stated bluntly.

"Where's all this coming from?"

"Just being realistic. For one, your dad has made it clear that he will not sanction a relationship between us."

"It's none of his business if we choose to be in a relationship with each other. We are two consenting adults."

"Actually, it _is_ his business. He's the police chief, and we're partners on his police force."

"Then we keep it professional on the job. But what we choose to do off the clock is up to us."

"I think we should keep this," she pointed between herself and Nathan, "between us."

He sat on the edge of the bed and studied her as she hopped around on one foot putting on her shoe. "Guess that rules out you moving in with me."

Audrey laughed, "That wouldn't exactly be on the down low."

"As far as everyone else is concerned, you could be my roommate." He suggested it with a put-on innocence.

"And that I'm coming to your room to bring you hot cocoa at night and tuck you in? No one is that naïve, but it's a nice thought. We'll just have to be careful."

"I liked waking up with you in my arms this morning," he stated unabashedly.

"I liked waking up with you, too, but on the bright side, all the sneaking around will probably be really, really hot."

"Yep. I guess we'll see if there's anything to this forbidden fruit thing."

Audrey blinked twice. _Forbidden fruit_. The words briefly zapped her back to her dream. _Memory? _ "But we can't fool ourselves into thinking this is going to be easy."

"I want to work toward a life with you. That means at some point, we're going to be out in the open."

"I want that, too, but…"

"But?"

"The chief isn't the only concern I have. There's also Ephraim."

Nathan half snorted. "We managed to not talk about him for a whole twelve hours. Was nice while it lasted."

She sat next to him on the bed. "I can't pretend he doesn't exist."

"He wouldn't let you if you tried."

"Look, I don't trust him. And you can wipe off that 'I told you so' look."

Nathan considered her words. "What changed your mind?"

"I never trusted him."

"Oh, come on. You thought he was intriguing."

"That's not the same as trusting him. Look, he's been too interested in you for my taste."

"He's not my type," Nathan deadpanned.

"Very funny. I don't want him to know we're more than work partners, not until I've figured out how to handle him."

"So what? When you say handle him, do you mean by giving him hope that you and he will…"

"No. Absolutely _not_. But I'm not going to have you in his crosshairs."

"Parker, I'm going to be the same place I've always been. By your side."

"Lucy—_I_—left for a reason. I need to find out why. Would be great if I could actually remember."

"Have you remembered anything else? A moment ago when I said something about forbidden fruit, you got a look on your face."

She shrugged. "Nothing helpful."

"But you have remembered something."

"I've been having dreams that seem very real, but I can't even remember half of them."

"Your past with Ephraim?"

"That's part of it, but it's hazy. I don't know." She tried to brush aside the apprehension that gnawed at her stomach. Or was that hunger? "You want breakfast?"

Nathan nodded. "I could go for some pancakes."

"How did I know?"

* * *

When Nathan and Audrey arrived at the orphanage, they spotted Teddy in the chicken yard tending to the birds. Teddy turned at the sound of the engine and the cracking of the gravel and smiled broadly, a complete turnabout from the morose girl they had met the day before. By the time Nathan stopped the engine and the two of them got out of the car, the teenager had already bounded over the fence and was at Audrey's side.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Teddy greeted Audrey with a hug. "Last night I talked to Sammy."

Audrey was almost startled by the hug and took a moment to respond. "That's great news."

"Mrs. Hopkins said it was you," Teddy said pulling back. "You're the one who changed her mind."

"I'm just glad I could help."

"They're coming this afternoon to talk with me about arrangements. Any advice?"

"Be polite. Show her you have your brother's best interest at heart. Maybe lay off the eye makeup."

Teddy giggled. "You sound like Sister Agatha."

"That's not something I hear every day."

"I just—I can't thank you enough." Teddy threw her arms around Audrey again. "You've given me back my family."

Despite her best efforts to avoid them, tears welled in Audrey's eyes. She looked to Nathan, who stood a few feet away with a look of pride and adoration on his face. He mouthed _I love you_.

And as she looked at him, she couldn't help but think she'd found her family, as well.

* * *

A few minutes later Audrey and Nathan made their way to the front door of the stone house. It was 9:30 a.m. on the dot. The door swung open before either had the chance to ring the bell. Audrey expected to see Sister Frances but was instead met by a more familiar figure: Sister Agatha. She had peeled many potatoes for that woman, all in the name of life lessons. The years had tempered those memories with an odd fondness for the sometimes stern but always fair nun.

"Do you remember me?" Audrey asked as she met Sister Agatha's eyes.

"Come here, child." The older nun embraced Audrey warmly before pulling away with an almost motherly, "Let me look at you, Audrey Parker. So grown up and far too thin."

"I don't know about that," Audrey protested.

"I do," Sister Agatha insisted. The nun looked from Audrey to Nathan and back to Audrey again. "This is your young man. I can see it in the way he looks at you."

"Nathan Wuornos," Nathan responded taking the nun's proffered hand. As he studied her face, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of something in the older woman's eyes. Recognition, perhaps? But that was impossible. She hadn't been there the day before.

"Sister Agatha," the nun identified herself. "I'm not supposed to have favorites, but Audrey here was always so special to me."

"A special pain in your—" Audrey stopped her words before she cursed in front of the nun, amending her statement to "backside."

"Come in. Tell me where you've been, what you've been doing. Last I heard from you, you were in the FBI."

The duo joined the sister in the stone house. The place bustled with activity, a far cry from the afternoon before when it had been eerily quiet.

And briefly, Audrey sketched the goings-on of her life, omitting, Nathan noticed, mentions of the Troubles. As far as Sister Agatha was concerned, Audrey settled into a small town life with few complications.

"I know why you're here," Agatha finally said. "We should go speak in my office."

The sister's office was small, Spartan by any reasonable person's account. Nathan thought it made his and Audrey's shared office at the police station look like a luxury suite. The nun sat behind her desk, while gesturing toward the two wooden chairs across the desk.

"This waiting is… ," Audrey took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm. "I need to know if you're going to help me."

Agatha removed a manila folder from her desk drawer and set it on the scarred surface. "Twenty-seven years ago, when you were brought to my care, I made a vow. A vow of secrecy, a vow to keep you safe. I always honor my vows. I shall not break them."

"But not knowing my past is causing me harm."

Agatha looked at Nathan, her old eyes focusing on him. "Yes, it is." She cleared her throat. "I cannot show you what you want to see. It would trouble my conscience."

Nathan sensed something more in the nun's demeanor. "But."

Agatha coughed slightly. "I seem to have a tickle in my throat. Perhaps some water would ease it. I shouldn't be gone longer than five minutes." She stood, looked down at the folder, and then back at Audrey. "I'll be here for you, child."

After Agatha left the room, Nathan turned to Audrey. "I guess bending is not the same as breaking."

But Audrey stared looking at the folder, not immediately moving to examine it, despite the opportunity.

"Parker?"

"Why now?" she whispered. "All these years, she refused to show me, and now she leaves the papers for me to see?"

"There's one way to find out."

She nodded and finally picked it up, running her fingers over the manila folder, long aged and musty smelling. "This is it."

The document on top would have caught her eyes, whether it was on top or buried in the middle. Across the top in a large, ornate font was spelled out **Relinquishment of Parental Rights**.

Audrey's brow furrowed. "I had parents?" Since she had concluded that she was Lucy, she never thought she would find her parents' names among the information at the orphanage. She scoured the text, searching for their identities. She turned the next page, and her hand went limp. The folder fell to the floor, its papers cascading around them.

Nathan picked up the papers, finally finding the one that Audrey had examined and subsequently dropped. His blue eyes scanned the text. And then he saw it. **Mother:** Lucy Ripley (deceased). **Father: ** Garland Wuornos.

And Nathan recognized the signature under his father's name as his father's own special variety of chicken scratch.

* * *

To be continued...

* * *

A more "adult" / expanded version of this chapter is available under the title _Phoenix Rising Outtakes_. I'm now going back to hide in my little corner and duck from the objects likely to be thrown at me. :)


	30. Cracks

**Author's Notes: **A few lines of dialogue come from episode 1x13 "Spiral" and should be credited to Sam Ernst and Jim Dunn.

There's also a pretty harsh internal monologue, mostly because I couldn't imagine that this particular character's thoughts would be G-rated. I'm not much for gratuitous cursing, but I felt it set the tone for the character.

Thanks so much for still reading! We are inching closer to the climax of the story though not quite there yet.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty: "Cracks"**

The scent of the salt water was as overwhelming as a boy getting his first blow. Fresh air for an hour a day was one thing; the way he figured it, he probably got more fresh air than most of the motherfuckers out there who toiled away for hours behind a desk in a cubicle, never seeing the sunlight or smelling the fresh air. They lived in a prison of their own choosing, but he'd—well, he'd been sent up the river for something he didn't do. He'd done plenty, no doubt about it, but the one thing he didn't do and the anvil of justice fell on his head, keeping him locked away for what should've been his glory years. And this was all he had to look forward to: the strong scent of the salt water. A slap and tickle would've been nice, too. Fucking shame he wouldn't be able to feel it.

The gulls cried overhead. He hated the damn things—always screeching, shitting on everything—but he was so glad to see them. There'd been no gulls circling over Shawshank.

Funny how parole worked. Years and years of being denied and suddenly, unexpectedly, he was up. There was a hearing, some stern warnings, and he was a free man.

Only he wasn't really free. He owed a debt, but there were plenty of folks who owed him, too.

It was time to settle up.

* * *

Nathan picked up the papers, finally finding the one that Audrey had examined and subsequently dropped. His blue eyes scanned the text. And then he saw it. **Mother:** Lucy Ripley (deceased). **Father: ** Garland Wuornos.

"Audrey, listen to me. The document is a lie."

Nathan stood behind her, placed a hand on her shoulder, but she recoiled from his touch, just as assuredly had his touch burned her.

"Think this through," he urged her. "You are Lucy. You have bits of her memories. You have her scars."

Despite her reticence to allow him near her, Nathan gently turned her around. Maybe he was overstepping boundaries, but the way he saw it, she needed to be able to look him in the eyes and see that he truly believed what he was saying to her.

But her eyes were wide with fear, as though she couldn't fully comprehend his words.

"What if…what if I'm not Lucy? And you're my…and we…"

"We're not related. We're not." He sounded so resolute, but the panic that ran through her did not subside. It struck him that Audrey continually had problem after problem heaped on her. All along, she continued to shoulder the weight of the burdens—hers and others. She was the strongest person he knew, but now she was beginning to crack. Somehow, he had to lessen those burdens. "Lady Cassandra told you point blank that you are not Lucy's daughter. The visions you shared with her, they've been right about a lot of things. The scars." His hand went to the area below his shoulder automatically though he could not feel his own skin. "You saw us as lovers in the not-so-distant future. If we were related, we wouldn't be together. Not like that. So why would you even entertain the possibility?"

Tears spilled. "Nathan, I—" She halted abruptly.

"Tell me."

"Sally Harrington told me that Lucy and…and the chief were lovers."

Nathan scowled as Audrey's words sank in. The thought that his father and Audrey—well, Lucy—had been anything other than friends had never seemed a possibility. Not with the way his parents felt about each other. Garland Wuornos had a hell of a lot of flaws, but cheating on his wife wasn't one of them. Nathan would stake his life on it. "And Sally would know, how exactly?"

"I don't know." The fear was irrational, had always been irrational, but with so many questions and so much time waiting for the other shoe to drop, she couldn't help the intense alarm that snared her.

Nathan's frown deepened. How long had she been dealing with the fear that Lucy and the chief's shared past was less than platonic, and why hadn't she said something? Did she think he would turn his back on her?

"Is that what you've been thinking this whole time, that Lucy and my father had an affair? Is that why you're so willing to believe the worst now?"

"Maybe this is why he warned us not to become involved."

"Or he had another reason. Could be because it's generally frowned upon for partners who put their lives on the line to—" Nathan broke off. "You're running scared, but don't shut me out."

She took a deep breath in a supreme effort to calm herself and tentatively reached for his hand. It was a small gesture, a welcome one to Nathan. His fingers locked with hers; he could feel her warmth and the tremors that ran through her body.

"If my dad brought you here, it was for a reason that only he knows, not what's on that paper."

"We need to get back to Haven."

The door of the office swung open. Audrey dropped Nathan's hand when she saw the aged nun. Sister Agatha walked in, closed the door behind her, and immediately withdrew a tissue from a box on the desk. Tenderly, she dabbed at Audrey's cheeks.

Audrey hadn't even realized she'd been crying, and when she did, it only frustrated her more. "What can you tell me about the man who surrendered me?"

The nun looked from Audrey's stricken face to Nathan, whose stony expression betrayed little—except for the emotion flickering in his eyes.

"He was mournful. I'll always remember. He didn't cry, but he carried himself as a man who suffered grievously, as though he did not want to give up his child."

"The date," Nathan addressed Audrey as he pointed to the document. "One day after my mom died. He was mourning _her_."

Audrey nodded slightly, but the concurrence of the dates unnerved her further.

"This man—Garland Wuornos—he is your father?" Agatha asked looking directly at Nathan. "That is what I feared when I heard your name."

"Yes, but he's not Audrey's father."

Agatha looked at Nathan sympathetically. "I realize this is a terrible situation, but denying the truth will only lead to more heartache. And worse, it is an abomination. The two of you must end your relationship; there is no other alternative."

"Things aren't always what they seem." As Nathan spoke, he wasn't sure if it was for the nun's benefit or Audrey's. "I'm not in blind denial. There's more to the story than names on a piece of paper."

Audrey squared her shoulders. "Did he say why he brought me here?"

"He was not equipped to care for an infant," Sister Agatha explained patiently. "A man on his own, no family to speak of to offer support."

"But why here, this place?" Audrey persisted.

"Well, as you know, the Church considers it a mission to take care of the weakest among us."

"But there are Catholic orphanages in Maine. Why Ohio? Do you know something you aren't telling me?"

Sister Agatha was flustered, something Audrey had never seen before. "He asked that I not reveal anything. I have already said more than I ought. I just could not stand by and watch you engage in an incestuous…"

"Audrey's not my sister," Nathan snapped.

"Whatever you are to one another, this is all quite an extraordinary coincidence, Audrey. For Mr. Wuornos to bring you here as an infant, only for you to come across him years later in a professional capacity is astounding."

Audrey's expression hardened. "I don't believe in coincidence."

* * *

The bustle of the lunch crowd at the Grey Gull kept Deanna Michaels busy, but she always had time for a quick word and excellent service. She was one of the main reasons Garland Wuornos went there for a bite to eat every Friday. That, and the fried shrimp plate was good.

"You want anything else?" Deanna asked with a smile as she cleared Garland's plate from the table.

"No, I think I've had about enough." Without thought, his hands went to his rounded belly. "Thank you. Couldn't eat another bite."

Deanna flashed the older man a smile, a smile that froze when she heard the door of the restaurant slam closed. She had been after Duke to get it fixed. Earlier in the week, she had dropped a tray of food when the sound of it startled her, had nearly dumped it on a customer, in fact. As it was, the sound attracted the attention of a number of patrons, including the chief, who had a peculiar look on his face when a burly man wearing a blue plaid shirt and jeans walked into the establishment. Gone was the jovial man. _There goes my tip_, Deanna thought to herself. Garland Wuornos was an excellent tipper when he was in a good mood. Other times, not so much.

"You all right, Chief?" Deanna asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine." But his tone suggested otherwise.

_Can't win 'em all_, Deanna thought as she moved to the newly arrived customer. "Would you like to see the menu?"

The man pulled out a chair at a table adjacent to Garland Wuornos's, and he did so with flourish. "I'll have what he had," the man said pointing toward the chief. "Two of 'em." Deanna nodded, and the man winked at her before she strode away to put in his order with the kitchen staff. "How you been, Garland?"

Garland could feel the tension building in him. Who the hell paid off the parole board to get Max Hansen out of prison? It made no sense. A man who murdered—and enjoyed it—a man who beat his wife and child—there was no way he should get to stroll into a restaurant like any other man and order a meal.

Keep it together. Keep it together. "I didn't hear you were out."

Max puffed his chest out in satisfaction. "You wouldn't've thought they've would've let me out, after your testimony."

Garland would've done more than testify to get rid of Max Hansen if it hadn't been for his family. He stood over the other man. "Go ahead and eat your dinner. Drink your drink, and then I want you out of here. I want you gone from Haven. I want you gone from the entire state of Maine. Do you understand me?"

Max tilted his head, meeting Garland's challenging gaze. Did he really want to get in a pissing contest? "Can't do that. I have a few things I need to take care of. Right here."

"Either you're gone by tonight, or I'll have your parole violated, and you'll be back in Shawshank tomorrow. It's your choice."

Max sneered. "Officer Wuornos. Oh. Excuse me. _Chief _Wuornos."

"What?" Garland huffed.

"Either kill me now or get the hell away from my table."

Their eyes locked onto one another, neither one willing to budge his position.

"You heard what I said," Garland finally uttered before putting distance between himself and the man who finally made him understand being so angry he wanted to kill. He left the restaurant, the door slamming behind him. A few feet away, the sound made Deanna Michaels jump.

Max Hansen smiled in satisfaction. Round one went to him.

Few people noticed the middle-aged man with a devil-may-care grin. For in the inlet behind him, a crack formed on an island, traveling its way up a lighthouse until the house collapsed.

* * *

"We'll be landing soon," Nathan said, his voice low. When Audrey didn't immediately reply, he asked, "You okay?"

Audrey tore her eyes from the window of the plane and the patchwork of landforms below. "Getting there. I thought Sister Agatha's eyes were going to pop out of her head when you grabbed the file folder from her hands when she tried to put it away."

"I guess I'm going to hell. It's gotta be a sin to steal from a nun."

"I'm sorry you've had to go on this wild goose chase with me."

"It's not been a waste. Found out you were ticklish." At that, the corners of his mouth turned slightly.

"Right. That's the type of information that could make or break a relationship."

A relationship. That's what they had. What they still had.

"Did you see this?" Nathan asked pulling out a small photograph of an infant. The image was slightly damaged by two small punctures—probably the result of being stapled to another paper at some point. The large blue eyes and button nose left little doubt of the identity of the baby.

"I hadn't." Audrey took it from him and studied it.

"You were adorable."

"Were?" Audrey queried, her eyebrow shooting up.

"Adorable's not the word that comes to mind these days." Sexy. Beautiful. Desirable. "You ever—you ever think about having kids?"

Audrey's answer was immediate. "Drag a kid into the mess that is my life? Might as well sign him up for therapy now."

Nathan brushed his hand across his forehead, an unconscious habit. _Idiot. Of course the last thing she'd be thinking of would be a family. _

"But I do think you'll make a great dad someday. I've seen you with babies," she added.

But Audrey was the one he wanted a family with when the time came. He couldn't quite decide if her comment was an indication that she considered him good father material for her own children someday once things settled or whether she was suggesting there would be another woman for him down the road, that things would end between them.

No, the one thing he wouldn't do was let her go.

_One step at a time, Wuornos._

Nathan tapped on the file folder, ready to change the direction his thoughts were taking him. "We know a few things we didn't know before."

"Like your dad is far more involved in my past than I ever realized. More participant, less casual observer."

"Which means he must know how you can be Lucy and...well…you."

"But why would he lie to me?"

Nathan paused for a moment. "I can think of two possibilities. He's either covering his own ass, or he's trying to keep you safe."

"There's another possibility. Maybe he's trying to keep _you _safe."

"From?"

"Me."

"From you?" Nathan asked incredulously.

"Maybe. There's so much I don't know about myself, about my past. What if something I did could come back to hurt you?"

"I care about the woman you are now, not who you were in another life."

"That doesn't make me immune to the consequences of what came before me." Audrey shook her head. "I've been thinking of Lady Cassandra, the things she said."

"She said a lot that day."

"More than anyone else has told me."

"She said your past is fragmented."

"I'm many, and I'm one."

"Think she was talking about you being Lucy?"

"Yeah, but I think there's more to it than that. How much is many?"

His jaw tightened. "More than two."

"Yeah." She leaned her head against the headrest. "I'll be who I once was, and then Audrey Parker will be no more."

"Riddles. Could mean anything."

"It seems clearer all the time. Years from now, will I be having this same conversation with someone else wondering how I could ever have been Audrey Parker?"

* * *

Garland Wuornos perused the open file folder on his desk. In his forty-plus year career in law enforcement, he'd seen just about everything, enough to numb him to many of the horrors, if he was honest with himself. The one thing he'd never forget was the day neighbors of Max Hansen's reported a domestic disturbance. It was a day that changed his life.

By the time Garland got there, Max had taken off.

His wife was still in the tiny house on Pearl Street. It was the first time Garland had seen Holly since they were kids back in Mrs. Morton's sixth grade class.

She didn't look like Garland remembered. Gone was the young girl who always wore blue ribbons in her hair, whose laughter sounded like music. She'd been replaced by a grown woman who cowered in the corner, who had sheltered her young son from her husband's wrath using her own body. She gasped when Garland tried to help her up. Her wrist was broken; her lip cut, her nose bleeding.

And then he saw her eyes, clear blue like the ocean on a sunny day, full of fear and self-loathing.

And Garland Wuornos wanted to make Max Hansen suffer.

By the time Garland caught up with Max at the Lusty Dog, the man was off his ass drunk and chasing skirts. His knuckles were raw where he'd assaulted his wife, but he grinned as he accepted a lap dance from one of the strippers.

By the time Garland was through bringing Hansen to the station, his own knuckles were bleeding.

Hate bubbled up in Garland that day, and it still gripped him. Years passed, more crimes committed. It took years to get anything to stick to Hansen.

_Helps to have friends in high places_, Max had once said as he walked out on bail.

Garland should warn Nathan, finally tell him what he should've told him long ago, but knowing and doing were two completely different animals. All he had done, ever since he met the little boy with his mother's blue eyes, was try to keep him safe.

But the walls were closing in, pressing on him.

"Chief," Stan stuck his head in the police chief's office, "just got word of more cracks."

"Where?"

"Wapék Park."

He had to get a handle on it.

"Anybody hurt?" Garland asked after a beat.

"No. All these sandstone shifts, makes me glad I'm a renter." Stan's joke fell flat as Garland closed the file on his desk and stood to get his jacket.

"You going yourself?" Stan asked, unable to hide his surprise.

Garland was about to confirm Stan's question, but he spotted Nathan's tall form coming down the hall through the office window. He looked again and saw Audrey walking in front of his son, both with purposeful expressions on their faces.

"Nathan's back. I'll send him."

Stan nodded and smiled uncomfortably before heading back to the bullpen, passing Nathan and Audrey along the way.

As the duo entered the chief's open office, Garland halfway snorted. "Took you long enough to get back. Make yourself useful, Nathan. Cracks showed up at Wapék Park. Second incident in one day."

Nathan glowered. "Not even a hello."

"You want small talk? Hello. How are you? Wicked good weather we're having. Go make yourself useful."

Nathan's eyes drifted to Audrey.

"Don't be looking to her for permission."

His dad was more temperamental than usual. What the hell was going on with him? Nathan caught a glimpse of the file on the Chief's desk, curious as to whether it was a case that had him more ornery than a rattlesnake with hives.

"Max Hansen? Why are you—"

"Already know you can't feel. You telling me you don't hear now?"

Nathan didn't take the bait, though his own ire was rising. There weren't many things about him that were similar to his father, but a bad temper was one thing they had in common, a combativeness they saved for each other. "We need to talk with you."

"And I need you to do your job. Damn town's falling apart, and you're choosing now to get all sensitive. I'm not running Oprah's couch here."

Audrey pulled Nathan aside. "You should go."

"Nothing's more important than—"

"We said we wouldn't let _us_ get in the way of doing our jobs. I'll call you." She reached across the divide between them and quickly brushed her fingers over his hand.

Nathan nodded before looking back at his father, his expression hardening. Garland merely tilted his head and shook it slightly. Nathan left, closing the door loudly behind him.

Audrey surveyed the older man with a cool detachment, though a large part of her wanted to rip into him for any number of reasons. "You've got to work on your people skills. Is that how Holly would've wanted you to talk to your son?" Dig. The purposeful barb would hurt far more than any tirade.

Garland froze. That tone. It was as though Lucy was in the room with him, not Audrey. "At the station, he's a subordinate, not my son."

"You're being an ass. Lucy was fond of you, but right now, for the life of me, I can't figure out why."

"Fond," Garland scoffed. "You sorting through the cobwebs?"

"And turning over a few skeletons while I'm at it."

"And what are they telling you?"

"That it's time for you to stop giving me the runaround. You know I'm not like everyone else. You've known all along. It just took me longer to catch up. Might have something to do with the roadblocks you and, I'm guessing, the Teagues brothers have put in my way."

"No, I suppose you're not like everyone else," Garland replied noncommittally. "You trying to get fired for insubordination or just testing my sense of humor?"

But Audrey would not allow him to deflect. Not this time. "I lived another life. I was a grown woman and somehow was left in an orphanage as an infant."

"So you're here for answers."

"I want the truth."

"You went to Ohio."

"Yes."

"With Nathan."

"Yes."

Garland reached in his pocket for a cigarette. All gone. "So you know. How you got there."

"I know that you left me there. The nuns have papers that say you are my father."

"You aren't my daughter. Nathan is not your brother. But you two need to stop whatever it is you have going on."

"He's my partner. We work well together. You've seen that."

"He's more than your partner. I recognize the look. He'd do anything for you, anything to feel your touch, anything to feel your approval."

"You speak like the voice of experience."

"You're gonna hurt him or you're gonna get him hurt. Take your pick."

"Then help me. Help me to understand what the hell is going on here so I can keep Nathan safe."

Maybe it was time. God help 'em all if he was wrong, but maybe she could help.

"If I tell you, you'll not like the answers. You ready for that?"

* * *

Nathan stretched the measuring tape between two small wooden posts he had pounded on either end of the cracked earth. As usual, no seismic activity had been reported by the USGS, but this didn't look or act like a typical sinkhole. Sandstone shifts had been their official story for the cracks appearing all around town. That—and gas leaks. But those excuses were wearing thin.

The ravine created by the crack went deep, farther than his measuring tape could determine. Crews would be by to fill it in. In the meantime, yellow caution tape would serve as a visual cue to the looky-loos to not get too close—as if a huge gaping hole wouldn't be enough of a deterrent.

Nathan was just relieved no one had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. That had been the case so far, but how long would the luck hold? Either way, he had a new place to pin on his map. Evidently, it had been a busy day for whichever Troubled person was responsible for the cracks. According to Laverne, shortly after noon, the lighthouse at Hamlet's Cove disintegrated after the island cracked apart.

They needed to get a handle on it. Audrey's visions of Haven crumbling was looking more and more like a genuine sneak preview all the time.

_Audrey._ He hoped she was finally getting the answers she had wanted for so long.

The wind picked up and with it came the smell of autumn. Moist earth. Pines. Salt. And something else.

Acrid. Coppery. _Like blood_.

Nathan inched closer to the roped off crack and peered over the gorge. The dirt was moist, which was typical, but the scent of blood was becoming increasingly strong. He pulled a flashlight from his tool bag and shined the light into the hole to get a better view. And then he saw it, a liquid seeping from the walls of the newly formed chasm. Dread filled him. To test his theory, he extended his measuring tape until it reached the liquid.

Crimson flowed onto the tape, a stark contrast to the yellow background of the tool.

Blood.

Like the blood that seeped from the maple trees at the Brand Estate.

He'd need a better sample for the lab. Evidence jars were in the truck, though.

Tool bag in hand, he headed back for the Bronco, only to pause when he saw a burly man sitting in the front seat. The truck didn't look like much—it had its share of scrapes and dents and according to Parker, the heater was hit and miss—but it was his. He was ready to shoot out the tires to stop the dumbass thief who had the bad luck of choosing a police officer's vehicle to jack if need be, but the man, upon seeing him, stepped out of the truck and smiled broadly.

He was middle aged; Nathan guessed mid-fifties to sixty, with a grizzled look, a ruddy complexion, and self-assured stance that bordered on menacing. Nathan immediately distrusted him.

"Can I help you?"

"Nathan…Wuornos." The man surveyed him with an appraising stare.

"Who are you?" Nathan got right to the point.

"Direct," the man grinned. "No flinching." He added with a chuckle, "I knew I'd like you."

"I'm flattered," Nathan replied dourly. "Who are you?"

The man shrugged. "I'm an old friend of the chief's. I was…_friends_…with your mother, too. You look like her, you know."

"You're Max Hansen."

"Smart, too." Max closed the distance between himself and the younger man, as he held up his hands in a mock surrender. "Now, I just came by to say hello." One hand moved to Nathan's shoulder and began to squeeze. Without a word, Nathan's reached for his sidearm as the seemingly affable man continued his invasion of Nathan's personal space.

"That's all. I don't want no trouble at all, Nathan. Tell your father that. I just want a little house with a little yard…"

"You don't take your hand off my shoulder, you're going to get a ride back to Shawshank. Or a bullet," he added calmly.

Max looked down and saw Nathan's police-issued 9 mm aimed at his gut. He removed his hand but barely blinked otherwise. "Damn." He continued to grin. "You can't feel that at all, can you?"

"You really don't want to stay in Haven."

The smile faded. "Oh, but I do. I have friends here, Nathan. One thing I learned in prison, if a man has the right kind of friends, life gets a whole lot easier. You remember that."

He began to back away from Nathan but added as almost an afterthought, "Was sorry to hear about Holly's passing."

"Was a long time ago."

"Still hurts, though. Am I right? You always were so…_sensitive_…as a little boy. The one thing I never could understand was the way she died. Holly was like a fish in the water. Strange that she drowned." Max shrugged. "Glad to see _you_ made it, though."

Nathan reeled from the other man's words, his façade of calm cracking much like the earth a few yards away. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, just that you nearly died that day. Some folks say you did. Course, it's obvious you didn't. I'll be seeing you, Nathan."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	31. Drowning in Memories

**Author's Note:**

A little over three years ago on October 13, 2010, I posted my first chapter of _Phoenix Rising_. I planned out the entire story beforehand, as is my practice. So many things that we see on screen with Haven weren't even a blip on the radar screen. In fact, the story was based off the ending of episode 12 of season 1 in which it is revealed to the audience that Audrey has the same scar on the bottom of her foot that Lucy did. I never dreamed that three years later, I would still be churning chapters trying to finish that story idea I developed.

This chapter is an exciting one to me, though, because it finally answers some of those questions that have been lurking in the background (and sometimes foreground) of the story since the beginning. The chapter is also nerve-wracking to me because I still don't feel like I have it quite right. The confluence of what's in my mind and what I'm able to write isn't always as seamless as I would like it to be.

Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy. It's a long one. And if you so choose, I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One: Drowning in Memories**

Audrey's eyes narrowed as she studied Chief Wuornos as he stood and walked from behind his desk to face her. Direct. Like his son. An odd nervousness fluttered in her stomach, and she wondered if being in the chief's office was akin to being in the principal's office. Either way, she felt like she was in some sort of trouble, but this conversation wasn't between the chief of police and one of his subordinates. It was between Audrey Parker and Garland Wuornos.

"Seriously? You're asking me whether I _want _to know? I mean, that was you all those times I've asked for information and you gave me the run around, right?"

Garland chuckled, a choked sound that turned into more of a cough. "You're right. I have been stonewalling you. First time I saw you again as you knelt over Jonas Lester's body, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me until you smarted off. So like Lucy."

"Why have you had me jumping through hoops?"

But he ignored the question, seemingly lost in his own remembrances. "Then you said your name. I chose that name. Audrey. After Audrey Hepburn."

She had always wondered. Getting this tidbit of information was welcome, even if it was inconsequential in the grand scheme of her existence. "And Parker?"

"After a dog I had as a kid."

Audrey's head was spinning. "Some people get named after parents or grandparents. I got named after a dog."

"If it makes you feel any better, Parker was a good dog."

"Iconic movie star, beloved pet." Audrey shrugged. "Guess I could do worse."

"Damn straight." And there was a certain pride in his voice that surprised her.

"So _what_ am I?"

"A young woman with your whole future ahead of you if you'll just let this go."

She shook her head. "I think you know me better than that."

Garland pursed his lips. "Figured."

"Whatever this is, it's bigger than me. You haven't been honest with me, and I haven't been honest with you."

"This that quid pro quo we once talked about? I keep information from you, you keep information from me?"

Audrey thought back to their early conversations when she first arrived in Haven. He'd pushed back at her, she thought because he didn't want the Feds poking around. Now she realized it was much more personal than that. But he had offered her a job. So why the shift?

"Maybe." She and Nathan had talked about it and decided to purposely withhold information on the official report of Lady Cassandra's death. Not that it was all that unusual to put a spin on a Trouble-laden case, but the chief wasn't oblivious to the Troubles, and they had intentionally kept him out of the loop. "When I met Lady Cassandra, the fortuneteller who died at the fun fest, she recognized me. She knew Lucy very briefly, and she told me things that Lucy had done."

"The masks. Suspending the acrobat in mid-air." Garland paused for a beat before adding, "The little boy. Yeah, I know all about that."

"Which you turned around and told Nathan and me didn't happen." Her tone was heavy with accusation. "Lady Cassandra also showed me things."

Garland felt for his pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket and reached in to pull one out before remembering the package was empty. "Showed you things? Like how to…how to snooker tourists with parlor tricks?"

"Well, now, _that_ I could use. Instead all I got when she touched me were flashes from my past, images from my future." Audrey pulled open the top drawer of the filing cabinet, found a pack of cigs, and tossed them to the older man.

If he was surprised that she knew where to find the pack, he didn't say anything. "Things from your future? This ought to be good."

"Really? With all the things you've seen, you're going to quibble over a fortuneteller?"

The chief tilted his head and exhaled loudly, and Audrey was struck by how familiar that mannerism was. "Fine," the older man uttered with some exasperation. "By all means, enlighten me."

"I saw Nathan's scars from the mountain lion attack before the attack happened. That's how I figured out I wasn't just going crazy. Or any crazier than usual."

"There's more else wise you wouldn't've mentioned it."

Perceptive. "I saw a cracked and crumbling coastline, blood running down the streets, and…and darkness."

The cracks. They had periodically shown up; her first experience happened on day one in Haven. It set in motion meeting Nathan when he rescued her from her car perched perilously over the edge of the cliff-side roadway. There'd been other cracks, too. On Carpenter's Knot. On Duke's boat. In the woods at the Brand Estate. And—if the Chief's barked orders at Nathan were any indication—two more that very day.

So far, there had been no casualties, but Audrey couldn't help but feel they were on borrowed time. If those cracks were the same as what she witnessed in her vision, then the likelihood they would escape unscathed was negligible.

Garland studied Audrey closely as he sat on the edge of the desk. "And you really believe these visions?"

"Yeah, I do. I also believe that if I can figure out what the hell I am, maybe I can stop those things from happening. The Troubles—or whatever is their source—are going to tear this place apart. That's why I need your help."

"I've been helping you. You just don't know it."

"How? By talking in riddles?"

The older man opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he looked around for his lighter. Where did it go?

Audrey cleared her throat and he saw she held it in her hand. How the hell?

"So why the secrecy?" she asked as she tossed it to him.

"Because it's been the right thing to do. You asked me to keep these secrets going on twenty-eight years ago." He lit the cigarette, took in a drag, and exhaled. He'd smell like a smokestack. Laverne would fuss. Nathan, too, but he needed the nicotine to calm him, to help him keep it together. The Troubles were a bad time to give up smoking. That's what he had told Lucy years ago, but he noticed that Audrey didn't scold him the way Lucy did.

"From myself? Why would I do that?"

Garland considered Audrey's question before finally settling on, "That's complicated."

"Then simplify it for me."

"The more you know, the more powerful you get. The more powerful you get, the more powerful _he _gets."

"He?" Audrey asked in confusion.

"Brand."

Maybe she should have been surprised, but she wasn't. Not really. "He's not natural," Audrey murmured, "and neither am I."

"You ensnare. He ensnares. It's what you do. It's what you have done countless times. It's what you'll do countless more."

What was that supposed to mean? What was she supposed to have ensnared? And what did it have to do with Ephraim? Every time the chief answered a question, he only raised more questions.

"You're talking in circles."

"I suppose I am."

"How about starting at the beginning?"

"I wasn't there for the beginning. You and Brand—well, you've been in and around Haven for a long time."

"Lucy wasn't my first go-round."

"No, but I guess you already knew that."

"Did Lucy know?"

"Not at first. From what she told me, Brand found her in New York. She was an…"

"…Artist," Audrey finished. "Ephraim swept her off her feet, married her, brought her here. And then the Troubles came."

"Not for the first time, and the Troubles were underway."

"And Lucy felt a compulsion to help."

"Same way you do."

"Did I—did I do this?" Audrey took a deep breath. "How am I connected?"

"Don't know. Just know that you are, same way Brand is connected."

"How did I change?" She gestured toward him. "I should be…well, your age, and I'm not."

Garland exhaled smoke but said nothing.

She took a step toward him. "Don't do that. Don't dangle this carrot in front of me and then snatch it away. If I'm going to do what I'm here for, I need to know. _Everything._"

"You really want the memories?"

"I didn't come for the parting gift," she replied sarcastically.

"Then take them," he replied simply.

"How?" Audrey demanded. "You aren't making sense."

"Don't know what to tell you. Not sure how you and Brand used to do that thing anyway. Just think. What comes naturally to you?"

Audrey closed her eyes, could practically feel the touch of Ephraim's hand on her back from a few nights ago at the Grey Gull. She had wanted to remember her past, and his touch triggered a memory. She opened her eyes, took in the weary older man who stood near her. She reached out, took the cigarette from him and put it out in a nearby ashtray. Before he had the chance to protest, Audrey took his weathered hand, and…

* * *

_Lucy was pulled into the room, not much bigger than a closet, his hand over her mouth. She struggled mightily until she realized it was Garland, the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his fingers a dead giveaway. The door shut behind her, his body pressed against hers even as he pressed her back against the wall so their shadows would not be visible through the opaque paneled windows of the door. _

_A moment later, when the sound of footsteps moved further from the door, he removed his hand, but she still felt like she couldn't quite breathe. It had to be her body's natural reaction to being startled. Yes, that was it. Or their close call. That was reasonable, wasn't it? All she knew was that it had absolutely nothing to do with being close to him. Simple as that. He wasn't even remotely her type. Not at all._

_He studied her with those icy blues of his and seemed to snap out of it, realizing he was unnecessarily close to her, one hand still on her hip, their legs tangled. He stepped back and ducked for the benefit of any other passersby._

"_That's quite the welcome," she whispered._

_"You shouldn't be here, Lucy."_

"_Neither should you." She tilted her head in an appraisal of the young police officer. "You're out of uniform."_

"_This isn't official police business."_

"_I figured as much." She went for the doorknob; it came off in her hand._

"_Oh, for the love of God," Garland murmured._

"_Old houses. It's not going to open now." She looked up at the window above the door. "Can you reach it?"_

_He gauged the height. "No."_

"_Does this at all make you want to mind your own business?"_

"_Should it?" he shot back._

"_No." A beat later, "This won't be easy to explain when we're found."_

"_Guess that depends on who finds us."_

"_You should give me a boost. There in the window, see the latch? It opens outward."_

"_All right. Let's do this." Garland interlocked his fingers and bent. Lucy removed her shoes and steadied herself, her hands on his shoulders as she stepped onto the lift he made. He lifted her, and she was able to reach the latch._

"_Don't you dare look up my skirt."_

"_Wasn't gonna. Can you step up on my shoulders?"_

"_I think so." She wobbled slightly, but he grasped her legs. She moved the latch and tried to push the window outward, but it would not budge. "Huh. It's stuck."_

"_Of course it is," he muttered._

"_What's that supposed to mean?" Lucy demanded as she looked down at him. Her sudden movement caused her to lose her balance, and she tumbled down atop him. Garland grunted as he broke her fall._

"_You all right?" she asked pushing herself up on her hands. Her shin had struck something on the way down. It stung like the dickens, but all of that was quickly forgotten. _

_Their eyes locked. "Think so. You?"_

"_Yes, but I'm pretty sure I scared a couple years off my life." Realizing she was still atop him, she colored. "Oh, um. Sorry." She rolled off him, sitting next to him on the floor as he sat up. "So another dead end. I'm telling you, Wuornos. There's nothing to be found here."_

"_And I'm telling you there is..."_

* * *

_Lucy looked at the little boy in the squad car who peered out the window at her. He held his hand up to the window and waved, shyly, she thought. She returned the wave before turning her attention to his father. "Ephraim helped to find your boy, not harm him. Garland—"_

_But the last thing Garland needed was Lucy's defense of the indefensible. "You think it was a coincidence? Nathan getting separated from his group, getting lost in the woods? When I think about what could've happened to him…"_

"_He's a little boy who was curious and doing what little boys do."_

"_Open your eyes to what's going on around here. You think it's all happenstance that he comes back here and brings the Troubles with him? You, of all people, help the Troubled and yet you can't see what's right in front of you!"_

"_He's my husband."_

"_He's your keeper! Your cage might be gilded, but it's still a cage." There. He'd said it. He breathed quickly, his breaths keeping tempo with his heart. _

_Lucy took a step back. Behind her, the sound of gravel crunched under another's feet. _Ephraim_. She turned and held her hand up as though to warn him to give her space. _

"_I don't want to work with you anymore," she said quietly as she turned back to Garland._

"_What?"_

"_You heard me. I'll still do what I can to help with the Troubles, but this partnership isn't working out. I can't be around a man who thinks my husband is a monster. He's not. Okay? He's not."_

_Garland pushed past her, fueled by anger, fueled by hurt, but he stopped after a few feet, turned and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "And so Mr. Ripley gets what he wanted all along. See you around, Lucy."_

* * *

"_I care about what happens to you." _

_Gone was the anger. His words sounded almost tender, too tender for her ears when she was used to his gruffness. _

"_I'll be fine. I will," she assured him as she reached across the seat and squeezed his hand._

* * *

"_Lucy, when the Troubles are over, you and I are going to have a long talk about my husband."_

"_Holly, I'm not…" Lucy took a deep breath and looked from Holly to Garland. "I'm not having an affair with Garland."_

"_Don't. I'd rather you not say anything as to lie to me. You have the world. Why do you need my world, too?" _

* * *

_In the break room at the police station, Lucy thought about pouring coffee until she remembered the station's coffee was only one step up from sludge. Coffee wouldn't soothe her nerves anyway. Nothing but distance and a fresh start would. She wasn't likely to get either, not with what still needed to be done._

_Garland did pour himself some of the coffee/sludge, though he found himself mostly staring at the liquid rather than actually consuming it. "I'm sorry about earlier. About Holly. About…everything."_

"_Don't. She loves you, and she thinks I'm taking you away." In a way, wasn't she? Lucy rubbed her forehead. Part of her thought it would be easier if it were just about sex between them. At least that could be explained away by biology. But they weren't sleeping together, had no plans to, had never even kissed, and yet she felt a closeness with this sometimes dour, too smart for his own good, small town cop that bordered on inappropriate. Scratch that. They'd crossed that boundary. It _was_ inappropriate, and they needed distance for the sake of Garland's family. "I'm sorry this is all happening. It's my fault."_

"_It's not. If I'd told her the truth, she wouldn't have reason to doubt me. After what she went through with Max, I promised myself I would never hurt her. But that's what I do. I hurt people. I hurt her. I hurt you."_

"_You haven't hurt me, Garland. Ephraim did. Not you. You helped me to see what was in front of me all along. I was so naïve."_

"_You were in love."_

"_Love? What a joke. He's turned me into a…I don't know what. And evidently I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over."_

"_We'll figure this out."_

_Her breath caught within her. "Yeah. About that, I think I might know how to stop the Troubles, for good this time."_

"_How?"_

"_You're not going to like it," Lucy said with a sigh. _

_The bald headed police chief stuck his head in the break room. "Garland." His tone was grave, with an expression to match it. "There's been an accident."_

* * *

_Roadblocks set up on Route 9 hindered Garland and Lucy's progress. As they drew closer to the barrier, Lucy could see quite clearly why the roadblocks were necessary. A large fissure in the road made it impassible. _

"_No, no, no." Garland's mantra alarmed Lucy._

"_Listen, you've got to keep it together. Holly and Nathan are going to need you to be strong."_

"_But I did this. I…I don't know when, but I…" His eyes followed the visual evidence. Holly likely approached the crack, swerved to avoid it, and… "Oh, God." The guardrail was twisted, compromised. Holly and Nathan must have gone over the embankment into the water below._

_Garland stepped out of the police car and went immediately to the barricade. The officer Lucy recognized as Simmons placed his hands on Garland's shoulders, partly to comfort him but also partly to stop him from going any further. "Witnesses saw the car go into the water. We've got divers down there right now." _

"_They can't survive that. Nathan—dammit—we live next to the goddamn ocean, and the boy can't swim! I never taught him to swim! I always thought there'd be time."_

_Simmons's eyes met Lucy's, and she could read the expression easily. It didn't look good._

_She rested her hand on Garland's back, if for no other reason than to let him know she was there and would be there._

"_Wuornos, we need you over here. We think we've spotted something."_

_Garland darted to the edge of the embankment. Lucy began to follow, but a uniformed officer Lucy didn't recognize stepped in her path. "Not you, miss."_

"_He's my friend," Lucy countered._

"_Not you," the man repeated. Peeking out from his shirtsleeve, Lucy spotted a circular tattoo reminiscent of a maze, reminiscent of the brand on Ephraim's back. _

_And in the distance, she saw the tall figure of a man walking away. In his hand, he carried an apple, its red skin almost luminescent. She'd recognize him anywhere._

_Ephraim._

* * *

Audrey felt a jolt as she pulled away from Chief Wuornos.

"You okay?" he asked seeing the look of shock on her face.

"No, I'm not." She swallowed hard and tried to focus her breathing to remain calm. "Nathan was the little boy, the one who drowned. He just doesn't remember. You've kept it from him."

"Of all things for you to remember." Those icy blue eyes, so familiar to Lucy, watered, and Audrey felt her own resolve wavering. "And what was I supposed to tell him? More merciful that he doesn't remember."

Suddenly, it all became very real to her as her heart caught up with her mind. "He died." And she trembled, thinking of the man, not the child, but the man who trusted her, the man who loved her. Her own feelings for Nathan Wuornos had snuck up on her, taken root, and flourished. The thought of losing him, having never really known him, staggered her.

"Audrey, don't."

"No, he died," Audrey grasped Garland's arms as the full scope of her actions settled uneasily in her stomach, "and I did something to bring him back and I…I _killed_ his mom in the process. It was because of me Holly died!"

"Because of you _and_ because Holly loved him more than her own life, Nathan lived."

She turned away, unable to bear the intense scrutiny of Garland Wuornos's gaze. "This is my fault."

"You don't remember it all. You need to remember the rest."

"I don't want to remember _that_." Damn tears. She could feel then sting her eyes, cloud her vision.

"You've come this far. You really quitting now?" He held his hand out to her. Even with her back to him, she could sense his movement. She turned and took the hand he proffered.

* * *

"_The crack came from nowhere. This wasn't supposed to happen! Not to my baby!" Holly looked squarely at Lucy. "You have to help me fix this. That's what you do. You fix things. Help me fix him. Fix my boy!"_

_Lucy looked around feverishly searching for Garland or the paramedics, but they were still at the crash site, while she had wandered away and stumbled upon the frantic woman. Holly grabbed Lucy and pulled her toward Emersen Pier. There, she saw the small body of Holly and Garland's son stretched out on the ground. A woman—familiar somehow to Lucy—stood watch over the child._

_Lucy felt a sob in her throat. No…_

"_Fix him." Holly's earlier hysteria was replaced by an unearthly calm that jarred Lucy from the horror of the moment. _

"_I…" Lucy took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can." Lucy knelt over his pale, tiny body, so still. It had only been a few months ago that she'd heard his laughter as she spun him in his father's swivel chair. Only the week before, she had wrapped a blanket around his chilled body after Ephraim found him in the woods; she had taken him inside the house and given him cocoa while they waited for Garland to arrive. And now, his skin had lost its color. She touched the child's face; his warmth was faded, too. Still, she willed him to awaken, willed him to take from her and be whole again. "From life to the lifeless, from the lifeless to life. Wake up. Nathan. Wake up. Come back to us. Come back." The edges of her vision became dark and Lucy teetered. Holly steadied her. "I can't," she whispered._

"_You have to!" Holly cried out. She moved to the opposite side of her child and held her hand out to Lucy. "Use me. Whatever it takes. Use me!"_

"_You don't know what you're saying. This is new to me. I don't know how this works! You might die."_

"_And what is my life without my son?"_

_Hesitantly, Lucy nodded before grasping Holly's hand. "From life to the lifeless, from the lifeless to life. Wake up, Nathan. From life to the lifeless, from the lifeless to life. Wake up." Lucy moved her free hand to the little boy's chest and could feel Holly's energy course through her and leave her, as though she were a conduit. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. "From life to the lifeless, from the lifeless to life. Come on, little guy. Wake up for us." And even as Lucy felt herself weaken to the point that it was difficult to remain upright, she felt warmth in Nathan's skin, felt his heart begin to beat again._

_She gasped when Holly's grip loosened and the other woman felt over. Holly's rosy cheeks were pale; her eyes, fixed but sightless._

_And Lucy knew what it meant, understood what she had done. _

_The little boy's blue eyes opened, and he found himself staring up at the sky. Confusion was written all over his features._

"_Rest, Nathan," she soothed him. "You're going to be okay." _

_His eyelashes fluttered as he sank into unconsciousness, though Lucy could feel the steady beat of his heart._

_She stood, but found herself staggering back. Unfamiliar hands steadied her. Lucy turned to look, and she remembered why the woman was familiar to her. It was the fortuneteller from the Fall Fun Fest. The woman had tears in her eyes. "There's always a price to pay," Lucy whispered. And her legs came out from under her._

_In the fog of her mind, she could hear Garland as he arrived on the scene and cried out in anguish for Holly. _

_And then the world was black until she awoke in his squad car in the parking lot of the hospital. She wasn't sure how much time had passed; the only thing she knew was that everything had changed._

_Garland's eyes were red and brimmed with tears. It was unnerving to see the normally stoic man with his emotions on display. "It was my Trouble. I did this."_

_And there were no easy answers. It was tragic and cruel and she wanted to scream, but she didn't have the energy. "No, this is on me," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I thought I could fix the Troubles."_

"_You thought you could fix me, but there's no fixing me. I've lost her—the best part of my life. I lost her before today, just didn't know it, but I thought I had time. Thought once the Troubles were over and I had myself sorted out…." He cleared his throat, trying to drive out the sob that threatened to escape. "Dry drowning, that's Eleanor Carr's official explanation."_

"_And Nathan?" Lucy whispered. "How is he?"_

"_He's in there," he replied with a slight nod toward the medical center. "A woman at the scene said that he drowned and you brought him back, like you called his soul back into his body."_

"_I don't know what I did," Lucy replied quietly. "All I know is Holly gave me the strength to do it." _

_The sound of her name stung Garland. "He doesn't know about his mom yet." The young husband and father wiped a hand across his face, wiping at the tears that escaped his eyes despite his best efforts to keep them at bay. "I don't know how I'm gonna tell 'im. Will you go with me?"_

"_I can't." Her heart ached for the man who sat beside her and for the little boy who would grow up without his mother. And her heart ached for herself, that she would never have to chance to be normal, to right her wrongs done so long ago, not as long as she was tied to Ephraim. And now she didn't have the strength to break those ties, to take him on once and for all. "I'm not going to be _me_ anymore."_

_Garland swallowed hard. "What are you talking about?"_

"_I can't explain how I know, just that I do. I'm going away. I don't think this is the first time."_

"_You're leaving _now_? What about ending the Troubles?"_

"_I can't. Not anymore."_

_And then he finally heard her abject weariness, saw the pallid tone of her skin. "No, Lucy. No. I can't keep hurting people with my curse. I need you."_

"_Ephraim's 'gift' to me is my curse, but I'm going to need your help because I'm—" she had to stop a moment to rest. As she continued, forming words became increasingly difficult. "You ever heard of the Phoenix?"_

"_Mythical bird. Bursts into flame. Is reborn and rises from its own ashes. What does that have to do with anything?"_

_But she couldn't find the words to explain what she did not entirely understand herself. "I'm sorry, Garland, so sorry to add to your burden."_

"_What do you need?" he asked without hesitation._

"_I need to be kept away from Ephraim, away from here. I don't know what's been set in motion, but I…I just know that he mustn't know."_

_He leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll do whatever I can."_

* * *

"I'm sorry," Audrey choked out. "I'm so sorry."

The memory of the younger Garland's pain at losing Holly was fresh in her mind, as was her guilt over her role in Holly's death. Both gnawed at her to the point that she felt a wave of nausea crash over her. She fought to keep down her lunch.

_Nathan._ His mother had been his whole world. Once he found out, how would he ever be able to look at her the same way? _Nathan. Oh, Nathan._

Older Garland had the benefit of time and distance to be more reflective, less reactive. "Best I can figure, when Lucy saved Nathan, it was like hitting a reset button. Burned her out."

Audrey covered her mouth, still battling the nausea and the weight of the new memories. Now Ephraim's fascination with resurrection stories made sense. The artwork. The hints.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._ "So you took me to Ohio."

"Couldn't very well keep you. Wanted you to have the best life, wanted you to be finally be free of Brand. Who'd think to look for you there? Still you found your way back, and with the Troubles, I knew we needed you. And then when Brand returned, I thought maybe the pieces would come together. You'd finish what Lucy couldn't."

"But there's Nathan." _I love him. I have no right to love him, but I do. I ruined his family. I love him. I love him. I love him. I'll destroy him. _

"There's Nathan. See now why I've told you to keep it professional? You work well together, like Lucy and I did years ago. Biggest mistake we made was letting it get personal between us. Led to a whole heap of problems."

_It's a little late for that._

"You should've told me this a long time ago."

"You weren't ready."

"That wasn't your choice!" Audrey hissed.

"No, it was yours. _Lucy's_."

"How is any of this possible? With all the crazy things we've seen, I can kind of get Sally Harrington going from middle-aged marm to young hot chick."

Garland shot her a stunned look.

"Oh, guess you hadn't heard about that one yet. I can even believe that Ephraim doesn't age. But how do I fit in there? Because obviously, I do age. I have a half-empty shoebox of school pictures to prove it. I mean, if this is something that keeps on happening in some form or another…"

"I don't know, and that's not me bullshitting you."

"Lucy thought she knew how to end the Troubles." And how desperately Audrey wanted to end them. To be able to give Nathan a normal life again, to take away the horrors that crept into their community…

Audrey found herself pacing. So close, so far away. Remembering conversations, but not all the details behind them. Being there with Garland, the only things she remembered were events associated with him. Theoretically, if she were to seek out Ephraim, she should be able to do the same thing.

"She never told me her idea, just that I wouldn't like it."

"If she could find a way, so can I. I just—I need to see Ephraim."

"No, you need to stay away from Brand, that's what you need to do. Being around him's not safe for you. Lucy understood that—and she was married to the man. Why can't you?"

"That's why you warned Nathan and me off the case at the estate. You were trying to protect us."

"Have been all along."

"And you think that if Nathan and I are involved, that puts him in danger. That's what you meant about him getting hurt."

"I'm sure it's occurred to you, once you realized who Brand was to Lucy."

"But what does it mean that I'm connected to Ephraim?"

"Can't answer that either. There were a lot of things Lucy and I never had the chance to talk about."

Audrey studied Garland's expression. "You loved her."

"Thought I did. In hindsight, I think we were both trying to save each other. Neither one of us succeeded. I wouldn'ta given up my family, though. Not by choice."

"So you gave up Lucy."

"Didn't have a choice there, either." He seemed lost in his own private remembrances. "You were a cute baby."

"Yeah, I know."

At that, Garland chuckled.

Other tidbits of memories began to filter to Audrey's conscious mind. "The cracks. That's _your_ Trouble."

And the smile on his face quickly faded. "So you know."

"Yeah."

"I've been trying to keep it together. Failing at it."

"What happened today?" Audrey asked. "You barked at Nathan that there were two separate cracks."

"Doesn't matter. Done is done. No one got hurt."

"Chief."

"What?"

"You and I both know what. Troubles are triggered by emotions." Her eyes went to the file folder on the Chief's desk, the same one that Nathan noticed earlier. "Does this have anything to do with Max Hansen?"

"Leave it alone."

"He was someone to Holly. He hurt her."

"He hurt a lot of people. Got a get out of jail free card. Can't for the life of me understand why."

"And he's back in town," Audrey surmised. "So you're worried he's going to harm someone else, someone you care about."

"Not as simple as that."

"Troubles run in families."

"Guess so," he replied noncommittally.

"Nathan's Trouble is that he can't feel. Yours is when you feel overwhelmed, your emotions manifest into physical cracks." She sat on the hard wooden chair opposite his desk thinking aloud. "You're not biologically related."

Hearing it made Garland visibly flinch. "I always thought I'd tell him at some point. Just never found the right time. Things have been so bad between us, I…I needed some time to prepare him."

Another minefield.

"Max Hansen?"

"Yep."

"You need to tell him before Max Hansen does. You need to tell Nathan a lot of things. He deserves to hear it from his dad."

"He'll never forgive me."

"Oh, he's going to be pissed, but he loves you. He will forgive you."

Garland shook his head. "Have you met my son Nathan? He holds grudges more tightly than old man Phillips holds onto his money."

"I think your Trouble is getting worse because you've kept all of these emotions, all of these secrets, pinned up until you can't control them anymore. That eats away at a person. You've tried so hard to be strong for everyone, and instead you've worn yourself down."

Garland snorted. "You really think having _that _talk with my son is going to fix me? He doesn't even remember Max or the day his mother died. Dredging up the past…I don't know about that."

"Whose Trouble is it?"

"Come again?"

"The one that made Nathan forget. The one that made so many people forget so many things, like the day the Colorado Kid died. Whose Trouble?"

The ringing of the phone in Audrey's pocket broke the moment.

"You going to answer that? Probably your partner."

Audrey didn't have to look at the screen to know the chief was right. "Hey."

"_You two still talking?"_ Nathan asked from the other side.

"Wrapping up."

"_Can you come down to Wapék Park? You aren't going to believe this."_

"Give me ten." She pressed the END button on the phone. "I've got to go, but you…you need to tell him. Sooner rather than later."

* * *

Audrey actually made it to Wapék Park in eight minutes thanks to Stan's squad car and some questionable driving. She spotted the blue Bronco and pulled alongside it.

The mid-afternoon sun was lovely as it glistened off the water in the distance. As beautiful as she found autumn in Ohio, this was the place that called to her. Coastal Maine. Of course, it may have had something to do with the man she saw standing near the cordoned off crack. Nathan stood rigidly, she noticed (he didn't relax enough…she really needed to help him relax more often), holding what looked like an evidence jar.

"Nathan." She called his name.

He turned when he heard her voice, and she was struck by the long lines of his body. He moved gracefully toward her, meeting her halfway. "Parker. Hi." His lips quirked in that way he saved just for her. Unassuming. Sexy without trying.

She wanted to wrap herself around him, breath him in, but they had agreed that on the job, they would keep it professional. And whether they liked it or not, the Troubles didn't stop just because they wanted to play hooky from work.

"Hi." Her own voice sounded strange in her ears, strangled somehow.

"You okay?"

No, she wasn't. Of course, if she told him that, he would want to know why. As it was, she had no idea how she was going to hold back his questions. Her non-answer died on her lips when she looked at the contents of the jar he held. "Bigger question. Are you? That looks like blood."

His eyes narrowed slightly. She was putting him off, he realized, but he allowed her to turn the conversation for the time being. Audrey'd lived through one hell of a bad day. "Smells like it, too. Come look, but don't get too close."

He guided her to the crack, but what she saw made her grimace. Where she expected a chasm, she saw a pond of what appeared to be blood. There was enough that even without the sensitivity to smell that Nathan 'enjoyed,' she could detect the coppery scent.

"When I first got here, it looked like the other cracks we've seen; nothing particularly unusual. I measured it, was getting ready to go when I noticed moisture in the walls. By the time I got back with the evidence jar, the crevice was filling up with this." He held up the jar.

"We came back from Ohio for _this_?"

He glanced at her with some amusement. "And so you could hear from my dad firsthand that you aren't my sister."

"I'm not your sister, by the way."

"Told you so," he replied blandly.

"This is a little too similar to blood in the streets."

The thought had occurred to him, too. Originally, when she mentioned that snapshot of a vision to him, it seemed one of those things that was impossible, but now he couldn't help but think they were on the cusp of something major. "Level's not risen in the last few minutes."

"That's good because I was starting to wonder where we were going to get giant band-aids."

"I was thinking Bounty instead."

Despite the situation, despite the rollercoaster of the day, Audrey couldn't help but smile.

"We'll watch it awhile longer. Get this to the lab. Hope the looky-loos don't get an eyeful."

"You think the lab will show it's the same blood as from the trees and the mountain lion? Human blood?" she asked.

"Won't know until we send it, but I think we can agree this isn't normal." He frowned.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I'd hoped to have more time with you before we got back to all this…crazy."

"Me, too." Audrey reached down and took Nathan's hand. Her fingers tangled with his and she rubbed her thumb along his palm. "It was easier when we weren't here."

"Nothing says romance like supernatural, bleeding cracks."

Audrey wrinkled her nose. "It really smells over here. Let's get some more distance."

She tugged on his hand, leading him toward their parked vehicles. He put the evidence jar in the Bronco and the two leaned against the body of the truck watching the crack from afar.

"Tonight, we should…we should talk."

"Yeah, we should." He turned his body slightly. One hand pressed against her hip and moved upward, under the hem of her shirt, she thought to rest against her skin, but then she felt his long fingers brush against the underside of her left breast.

"We're on duty," she warned him, though she hated saying it.

He pulled away, both feeling the loss of contact. "On our day off," he countered. Though he kept distance, his velvety voice roped her in. "If we were in Ohio, what would we be doing right now?"

It wasn't difficult to imagine. She'd either be on top of him or under him, maybe next to him. They'd be moving in unison, each an extension of the other, bodies joined, hearts joined, breathing each other's breaths. And after, they would talk, touch, laugh, perhaps nap a little in each other's arms before beginning the beautiful dance all over again. "You know what we'd be doing."

"Talking's not all I want to do tonight," he stated bluntly.

"Me either." Was she really going to do this? Prolong the inevitable? But just one more night with him, one more night to keep her going, to give her the strength to tackle what was to come with Ephraim, was that so wrong? One more night before he discovered the truth that was her poison and he wouldn't be able to look at her in that way she loved.

Love would be replaced by disgust.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Nathan told her, "I met a guy today. Here actually. He was hanging out in my truck when I came back to get the evidence jar."

"That's ballsy."

"He was waiting for me, said he was an old friend of my parents. Max Hansen."

Audrey swallowed hard. Hansen didn't waste time. "What did he have to say?"

"Acted like he wanted me to give a message to the chief. Said he just wanted to settle down, didn't want trouble."

"But you didn't believe him."

Nathan stared ahead. "He was testing me, seeing if I could feel anything. How would he even know to do that?"

"What did you do?"

"Told him if he didn't get his hand off my shoulder he was going back to Shawshank or getting a bullet."

"Did he say anything else?"

"That it was good to have powerful friends and that he was sorry to hear about my mom drowning."

"I'm sorry, Nathan."

"He's nothing to me. Just another criminal who won't last on the outside. Just hope no one gets hurt in the process."

"There's more."

Nathan hesitated. Not too many days ago, Audrey had nearly gone off the rails at the possibility that, as Lucy, she had been present when his mom died and hadn't stopped it. If there really was a little boy who died that Lucy brought back like Lady Cassandra suggested, and if what Max Hansen said was true…

"C'mon. Tell me."

"Hansen said I was there when it happened, when my mom died. He implied that I died, too."

* * *

"The years have been good to you, Mr. Brand."

"So I keep hearing." Ephraim surveyed the long scar that ran down Max Hansen's neck. "Can't say the same for you."

Hansen smiled—how easily the man smiled, Brand noted. Easier to disarm and go in for the kill that way, at least in normal circumstances. Not that Brand was in the least worried. There were very few occasions when he felt he did not have a situation well controlled. Besides, what could Max Hansen do to him?

"They're character marks. Can admit that they're easier to endure when you can't feel 'em."

"Why here?" Brand asked, surveying their surroundings. An old pier. Rock and sad. Pilings.

"The scene of the crime. Leastways, that's what Garland Wuornos would say. They found the Colorado Kid right over there," Max pointed. "Me? I just like the sea air. I missed it."

"Glad to see you have a proper antipathy for Wuornos."

"Funny thing about the passage of time," Max mused. "Helps a man to get some clarity. I had a long time to think in Shawshank. Time to think of Garland Wuornos, how he stole my life, my family. Time to think of you."

"I'm flattered," Ephraim replied wryly.

"You shouldn't be. Why'd you leave me there?"

"My attention was otherwise engaged, and you weren't my primary concern."

"Oh, I wasn't your primary concern?" Max's grin dropped to a dangerous grimace as he gathered the collar of the other man's perfectly tailor suit jacket. "You concerned now?"

Ephraim commented nonchalantly. "Please don't prove to me you are as foolish as you appear."

"You cost me twenty-five years of my life. You—and Wuornos."

"Are you really lumping us together?" Ephraim asked as he took one of his hands and placed it on Max's fist. He pried the man's fingers from his suit, not a particularly easy feat, but in light of the look of absolute shock on the parolee's face, not as difficult as it might otherwise have been.

"I felt that," Max uttered in amazement, though the painful sensations in his fingers ceased quickly enough, replaced by the numbness with which he was all too familiar.

"Of course you did."

"Why can I feel you?"

But Brand merely brushed aside the question. "We have far more important things to discuss than that. Don't you think?"

* * *

To be continued...


	32. They Don't Make a Greeting Card for That

**Author's Note: **When we last left our characters, Audrey had discovered a slew of information about her past as Lucy, including the day Holly Wuornos died and her part of those tragic events. Nathan had been visited by Max Hansen, (unknown to him) his bio dad, at the site of another crack (blood-filled, no less). Through Hansen's comments and what he already knew from Lady Cassandra, Nathan figured out he was the little boy who drowned and was brought back by Lucy.

Thanks so much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. I'm amazed to still be favorited and followed after so much time has passed. I also truly appreciate those of you who left reviews of the last chapter. You truly do encourage me.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two: "They Don't Make a Greeting Card for That"**

"You're not saying anything."

Audrey met Nathan's gaze and tried to keep her expression as impassive as possible, but internally, she quaked. "What do you want me to say?"

"Don't know. Maybe that I'm wrong, but I'll settle for the truth."

The truth.

That was what it all came back to: the painful truth that Nathan's mother died after a series of tragic events, all of which directly or indirectly tied to Lucy. If it weren't for Lucy, Holly may not have been hell-bent on taking Nathan and leaving Garland. If not for Lucy, Garland may have had a better handle on his Trouble that fateful day and the cracks may never have appeared. If Holly hadn't been upset with Lucy, perhaps Holly would have seen the crack in the road sooner, been able to avoid it without taking her car over the embankment. If not for Lucy draining the life from her, Holly might still be alive. Hallmark didn't make a _sorry I killed_ _your mom_ greeting card for painful truths like those.

"The truth is this is a conversation you should have with your father because once you and I do, there's no going back."

Nathan rested his hand at the nape of her neck. "Audrey, you do know that no matter what, I love you, right?"

She shrugged from his touch. "You say that now—"

"You think it's conditional?" Nathan's frustration was evident in his slightly raised voice.

"Look, the things I learned today…I want to be honest with you. Fully. I just don't know that these are my secrets to tell. Not entirely."

"So you and my dad are keeping things from me now? This is rich."

"Don't."

"Don't _what? _Be pissed off that you're doing to me what's been done to you? That you're keeping me in the dark, making me feel like I have absolutely no control of my life?"

She looked at him pointedly and pulled her cell phone from its holster. After entering a few digits, she lifted the device to her ear. "Hey. It's Audrey. Look, we're down here at Wapék Park, wrapping some things up. Nathan was hoping you could come over to his house for dinner tonight, say eight o'clock." Nathan shot her a warning look, but she ignored him. "Good. He'll see you then."

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Being pushy," she replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "You two are so pig-headed, how else are you going to work this out?"

"One night isn't going to fix us."

"No, but it's a start. It's what you both need, whether you realize it or not."

Nathan took a deep breath. This was the last way he wanted to spend his night, fighting with the old man. "You going to be there?"

She considered his question. "It's not a good idea."

"Why?"

"You two need to be able to speak freely. Not sure you can do that if I'm there."

"Parker."

"Wuornos," she echoed his use of surname. It came off sounding more harsh than she had intended. "Look, I'm going to take the evidence, get it submitted to the lab. I'll see if I can get a rush on it."

"Audrey, come on."

"Call me if anything else happens out here." Without another word, she reached into the Bronco and retrieved the evidence vial.

"Wait."

She stopped in her tracks. Nathan reached out and took her hand, pulling her close to him. His eyes met hers, a subtle plea within them. _Don't go. Not like this_. And she was his captive, not by demand but by choice. Her arms coiled around his waist, and she reveled at the feel of his tight muscles against her softer form. His hand cradled her face. "I'm in love with you," he whispered against her lips. "Nothing changes that."

The rawness of his emotions had Audrey biting back her own fears. "I'm going to destroy you."

"Only if you stop trusting me."

At his earnest expression, Audrey felt tears form in her eyes. Dammit. She hated crying, hated feeling vulnerable.

Nathan saw the emotions play across her features and wished he could imbue her with his love, make her believe that nothing that happened in the past would send him running for the hills. "Believe in me. Believe in us. Trust your partner." He wiped her tears with his thumbs before their mouths met in a slow exploration of texture and taste. He focused exclusively on her lips for a moment, worrying her bottom lip with his teeth before soothing her tender flesh. Audrey set the evidence jar on top of the Bronco before her hand came up to the back of his neck, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape. She could feel the shivers run through him; her touch did that to him, made him alternately content and longing for more. She could relate. Even now, despite the heaviness in her very soul, she ached for him, ached to join with him.

She wondered if he could sense her shift in mood because his kisses intensified. His hands roved her body, moving beneath her shirt until one of his thumbs found its way under her bra and stroked her nipple, hardening the sensitive skin into a peak. She gasped at the contact, reveled in it, even as he guided her against the Bronco, his body sheltering her and wanting her.

All the while, Nathan's mouth caressed hers, kissing her thoroughly, leaving her gulping for air until he finally left a trail of kisses from her jaw line to her ear. He knew where she wanted him to go, as he moved towards her earlobe instead, teasing her as she protested with a whimper. He just smiled against her skin there before turning his attention lower towards her collarbone, finding her sensitive hollow and tending to her sweet spot. He felt rather than heard her laugh softly.

"I thought we were going to be discreet."

"We did say that, didn't we?" Reluctantly, he slipped his hands from under her shirt and looked around, grateful that no one was in sight, particularly in light of the tenting of his pants.

"We made it a whole two hours."

"Toughest two hours ever," he replied with a hint of a smile. "You still coming over tonight?" He tenderly ran his fingers through the blonde strands that had fallen loose from the bun she wore.

She nodded. "After you've had time to talk with your dad."

"You should bring an overnight bag."

Audrey's heart quickened. He was still certain nothing could shake his feelings, and she hoped Nathan was right, but it was hard to believe in a happy ending for them. "An overnight bag? That's not keeping us on the down low."

Nathan groaned, remembering the agreement they had made in Ohio. His resolve was quickly waning. "I don't care who knows that we're together. I'm sure the chief has put it together. Brand, too."

At that, Audrey swallowed hard.

Ephraim. What were his secrets? Lucy knew—at least some of them—and was certain she could end the Troubles, though she never got the chance. She'd chosen to save Garland's little boy, and the choice was taken from her.

And the boy grew to a man, the man she—Audrey—loved.

It was so convoluted, almost maddening.

And Audrey desperately needed to keep him safe. Garland wasn't off base when he voiced concerns for Nathan's wellbeing. Ephraim Brand was the unknown variable in the equation.

"I need you to be safe."

"Then you shouldn't've fallen in love with a cop. What we do isn't safe, Parker."

"You know this isn't about your job. It's about my past."

"I was the little boy that Lucy saved. Your past, my past—they're intertwined."

"Nathan…"

"Can't go back. Can't bring my mom back, but I know Lucy wouldn't have done anything to intentionally harm her."

"You sound so certain."

"Because I know _you_."

* * *

After Audrey dropped off the lab sample to be transported to Bangor, she stopped by the chief's office.

"Come back for round two?" he asked, his back to her.

Audrey was impressed he knew it to be her. Maybe she was predicable, or maybe that was what made Garland Wuornos a good cop. "Feels as though it should be more like round five or six. I'm not here to fight with you. It's about the crack at Wapék Park; there was something peculiar about it."

He turned to look at her. "Explain."

"It was full of blood, or at least, what looks like blood." She wrinkled her nose. "And what smells like blood."

The chief scrubbed his face with his hand. "What the hell is going on here?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. Have you ever known of any other cracks to fill with blood?"

"No."

"Could you…?"

"With my magic blood hose?" the chief scoffed. "This wasn't me. So where is it coming from?"

"Can't say, though I certainly have a theory, and you're not going to like it."

"You don't say," he replied flatly. "Does it involve Brand's bleeding trees?"

"Yeah. The samples taken from the trees and the mountain lion that attacked Nathan showed that the blood was human."

"Think this was something you should have brought up?" Garland demanded.

"You told me to leave it alone."

"Can tell you listened," he replied wryly. "When did I lose control of the whole damn department? We seem to deal in wholesale secrets around here."

"About that. You need to be upfront with Nathan. He's pieced it together that he is the little boy who drowned thanks to a run in with Max Hansen."

Garland's eyes narrowed. The whole town would be better off if Hansen would just disappear. He'd tormented Nathan when he was a child. Garland was just grateful Nathan couldn't remember it, thanks to a little help from a friend. Now it seemed Hansen was back to blow up his life all over again. The twinge began, the burden intensifying. He took a deep breath to try to contain it. "What minefield are you sending me into? You trying to get me to take the whole damn town apart?"

"Listen, you've had so much pressure building for so long, I think that's what is causing these cracks. You've got to let it go. Just let it go."

"Easy for you to say."

"I am culpable in ruining Nathan's childhood, so, no, it isn't easy for me to say."

"Is he blaming you?" Garland asked.

His question gave her chills. "Not yet."

"He shouldn't. It wasn't your doing. If anyone's to blame, it's me. Holly and Lucy both are gone because of me."

Audrey studied the chief for a moment. "I don't remember what Lucy's last minutes were like, but I do know that she cared about you. She'd want you to stop blaming yourself for things you can't change. I think Holly would, too."

"With Nathan…I've not…I…" At times he could look at his son, feel pride that he must have done something right in his life. At other times, all he could feel was regret that he'd not been a better father, that his son barely tolerated him.

"Set things right with him. Stop antagonizing him. Stop pushing him away because of your guilt."

"You love him."

"Yeah, I do."

No hesitation. No excuses. Garland should be happy that Nathan had found someone kind, compassionate, beautiful.

But all he could feel was dread gnawing its way into his gut.

"You shouldn't love him," the older man replied bluntly. Audrey was about to protest when the chief held up his hands to calm her and added, "Not that he isn't a good man. He'll be a good husband someday. A good father. But your loving him puts him in danger and it's a distraction. At the end of all this, do you really see any scenario where you and he have a normal life?"

"At the end of this, I see him by my side."

The chief halfway snorted. "When I brought you into the department, it was because you were willing to see things for what they are. You've lost your touch."

* * *

The chief's words stung.

Perhaps they would have stung less if not for the element of truth they held.

Audrey headed to the bullpen to finagle a ride back to the Over the Way Bed and Breakfast when she caught sight of Julia Carr heading into the lounge carrying a flat pink box. Curious, Audrey followed her friend. When she entered the break room, she heard Julia muttering under her breath as she set the box on the round table in the center of the room.

"They say talking to yourself's the first sign of madness," Audrey quipped.

"Then I'd have been in the Freddie years ago," Julia replied when she heard her friend's voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here. What are you doing here?"

"M.E.'s office lost a bet. I got chosen to deliver the goods."

"Donuts from Rosemary's to the police station. How stereotypical."

"And oddly delicious. Well, the boys in blue do like their donuts." Julia eyed Audrey curiously. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

"I didn't expect to be back quite yet. When Nathan and I were in Ohio, we discovered some unfinished business here that couldn't wait."

"Sounds ominous."

"It was."

"So did you find some answers?"

"A few. And more questions."

"So why are you here with me instead of with Nathan?"

"He's having dinner with his dad tonight."

"Did you and he…?"

The door to the break room swung open. Stan smiled nervously when he saw the two women and immediately had the sense he had interrupted something. "I heard something about donuts..."

Julia stepped aside and gestured to the box. Stan quickly selected a chocolate-covered, custard-filled donut and vacated the room, though not before he amiably added, "I'll get out of your way."

"I was actually about to head home," Audrey said.

"Need a ride?" Julia asked.

"Could use one. How did you know?"

"I didn't see your car or Nathan's Bronco out there." Julia paused a beat before adding, "Hey. I'm a medical examiner. I notice things."

The two friends headed out. Once they were in the car and on their way, Julia broached the subject of Nathan again. "You never did say whether you and Nathan took things to the next level."

"I guess I didn't, did I?" Audrey hemmed. "But yeah, we did."

"And?" Julia prompted.

"And…," Audrey reddened slightly though she couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips, "I'm not really used to talking about things like that."

"At least tell me if it was good."

Audrey's mind drifted back to the feel of his lips on her skin, his body joined with hers. Yet it was more than the snatches of physical pleasure that had her suddenly feeling warm all over. It was finally finding where she belonged and knowing it was with him. "Good isn't a strong enough word."

Julia practically squealed. "I want details!"

"You're not getting them," Audrey replied bluntly.

Julia slowed as she came to a stop sign. "I don't need to know who put what where. I'm thinking more along the lines of how did it all come about?"

That, Audrey could deal with. "He got us rooms at a bed and breakfast in my hometown that I've always loved."

"Rooms? Plural?" Julia grimaced.

"My reaction, too. We ended up with only one room, but I can appreciate the fact that he was being a gentleman and not making assumptions."

"So…"

"One thing led to another and there you have it."

Julia scolded her friend. "We've got to work on your narrative skills."

"Things are complicated."

"But you and Nathan are solid, right?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Nathan thought so, but there were so many things he didn't know. Armed with new knowledge, would he still feel the same about her? Tonight would be the test of that.

When Audrey didn't reply, Julia shook her head. "Sex usually makes a relationship more solid, not less solid."

"Sex is definitely not the problem."

"Then what is?"

"My past. Ending the Troubles. Haven's future. The usual."

Julia pulled the car to a stop in front of the B&B. "I'm really starting to remember why I wanted to get away from here."

"It's not for the faint of heart."

"Listen, I have to get back to the office, but do you want to meet up later?" Julia asked.

"Sure. I told Nathan I would stop by his house later tonight, but his dad isn't showing up until 8:00, so…"

"Let's say 8:00ish at the Gull," the brunette suggested.

* * *

When Audrey unlocked her room at the B&B, she almost immediately flopped down on the bed. Her eyes went to the ceiling, and she found herself noticing the oddest things. A layer of dust on the rickety old ceiling fan, a tiny crack in a drywall seam of the ceiling…

It made her think of the blood-filled crack.

Blood.

Ephraim had said that Haven was in his blood, but she never thought he meant that literally. So what, if anything, did he have to do with the blood that kept creeping up in all the wrong places?

She turned and on the nightstand saw the book Ephraim had gifted her by proxy the first day she went to the Brand Estate. _The first day you went_ _back_, she silently corrected herself. The place had been Lucy's home.

She reached for it, her eyes taking in the inscription as she opened the front cover. _To my eternal love_. She had once loved Ephraim Brand. The knowledge felt so removed from her emotions. While she had initially found him intriguing, now the thought of him filled her with dread, proving there was, indeed, a shelf life on love, at least where Ephraim was concerned. All that remained was a cat and mouse game that, though it had once seemed amusing, now felt cold, sinister.

Audrey also wondered at his presence, carrying an apple the day of Holly and Nathan's accident. From what few memories of Lucy she had, she got the impression that was the last she saw of Ephraim before she changed, before Lucy ended and Audrey began.

She began to flip through the pages of the book, which mostly detailed the architecture of the house but also featured a few photographs of artwork. Amazing how so many of the pieces were tied to resurrection myths.

One photograph caught her eye, an exterior shot of the stone manor house. In an upper window, a woman stood staring out. She was easy to miss if not specifically looking for her, but Audrey noticed her right away, for it was her own face staring out. Lucy. She wondered what she had been thinking in that moment.

And Garland's words came back to her. _Your cage might be gilded, but it's still a cage._

The chief was right. Nathan would never have a normal life with her. At best, it was selfish to think otherwise. At worst, it was dangerous.

The ringing her of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. NATHAN showed on the screen. She pushed the answer button.

"Everything all right at the park?"

"_Yeah. The blood's receding. I actually just got home."_

"Oh. That's…that's good."

_He cleared his throat. "Thought you'd want to know."_

Awkwardness hung between them. "Thanks," she finally said. "Was there anything else?"

"_I know you're going through a lot, but we're going to be okay."_

"We'll talk later." She pressed the end button, flopped back against the pillows, and stared up at the ceiling again.

It seemed odd that they expected her to have the answers to their Troubles. She couldn't get her own act together, and here she was doling out advice to everyone else.

What advice would she give someone having her meltdown? _You've got to snap out of it. Stop living in fear. Fight for what you want._

And she wanted Nathan.

Wasn't it time to stop moping and start fighting?

* * *

Nathan set down his cell phone and went to remove a beer from the refrigerator. He wasn't sure why he bothered refrigerating the bottles; it wasn't as though he could perceive the temperature. There was something about seeing the condensation run down the side of the bottle, though, that made it taste better. Completely psychological, he realized.

When he opened the refrigerator, he saw the assortment of coffee creamers he'd purchased for Audrey's benefit.

Audrey.

Months ago, when he realized he could feel her, he had tried not to dwell on it for her sake and his—beyond his initial bewilderment and tests. She was his friend above all; his witty partner with the lusty laugh, a wicked sense of humor, and a beauty impossible to ignore, try as he might.

The last twenty-four hours had been heaven and hell.

Heaven. Being wrapped in her arms, feeling her lips, her fingertips, the most intimate parts of her enveloping him in warmth and pleasure. Waking with her in his arms. Seeing the adoration in her eyes. They were sexually compatible; he hadn't doubted they would be, for they seemed to fit together in every other way.

Hell. The past. It nipped at their heels, took hold, and shook its head with ferocity. The doubts Audrey had were far more frightening than anything else they'd faced together, more so than pyrokinetic teenagers, bleeding trees, cracks, murderous shadows, or chameleons. Troubles, he could fight. Doubt—that was something she would have to fight on her own.

He ambled to the living room, beer in hand. The place seemed empty without her, too quiet. A few days earlier, they had been curled up on the sofa, the tension between them palpable, but he never thought anything would come from it. He'd gone out of his way to not cross lines with her, to not make her uncomfortable. Now he'd give just about anything to have those moments back, to take a chance, to have those extra days with her before everything got so damn complicated.

He would never regret loving Audrey.

The sound of the doorbell jarred him from his thoughts. He set his beer on a coaster and went to the front door. He moved aside the curtain to peer outside before opening it.

Audrey.

He opened the door and tried to rein in the thrill that ran through him. "You're here," he said, looking into her eyes, trying to read her intentions.

"You should invite me in." Her tone was flirtatious, glib. Gone were the doubts that seemed to plague her earlier. He wasn't sure what had changed, but either way, he would take it.

He stepped aside, and she walked in before he closed the door behind her. "About that." Nathan dug a key out of his pocket, took her hand, and pressed it into her palm.

"What's this for?"

"Key to my house."

"Nathan…"

Was it too soon? It didn't feel too soon, not after everything they'd shared as partners, as friends, and now lovers. "For convenience."

She quirked an eyebrow. "How _practical_ of you."

He half-smiled, half-grimaced. "I'm doing this all wrong."

She took the key and put it on her key ring before touching his face. "I love that you aren't smooth."

The warmth of her hand and the softness of her skin, had his face alight. He leaned into her touch and kissed her palm, sending shivers of delight through her. "It's only 5:45," he said huskily.

"Need help cooking dinner?"

"Eight o'clock won't be here for awhile. I was hoping you could help me with something else."

"What's in it for me?" she asked, a saucy grin playing across her lips. The look alone was almost enough to make him come undone.

He smiled. "I have a few ideas," he said, but the last word barely made it out before his lips found hers. He'd been starving for her all day, and he fully intended to feast. The kiss quickly deepened as their tongues sought one another, the pleasure of discovery building between them, as did their yearning. Wordlessly, her hands came up and ran through his hair, her fingers lightly scraping his scalp. He moaned at her teasing touches.

He wrapped his arms around her body fully, as he backed her up towards the door. They crashed into it, shaking the curtained window in the process. That elicited a chuckle from her, as she buried her face in his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin, breathing in his scent. Hands against his chest, she pushed him back playfully.

He looked at her questioningly until her hands moved down his arms to capture his hands in hers. Gently, she pulled him toward his bedroom.

"I have a few ideas, too," she said as she rounded the corner into his room.

"Intelligence is so sexy." With that, he pulled her tight against himself and let his hands explore her body.

Sometime later, he kissed her tenderly as they lay on the bed, the covers tangled around them. "You are going to be the death of me." A sheen of sweat clung to their skin, even as they still clung to each other.

"But what a way to go," she whispered before nipping at his lower lip. "I think I could do this over and over and over."

"I know I could. For the rest of my life."

That was what she wanted, too, but she couldn't give voice to it.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

Audrey pushed away the shadows of doubt that invaded her mind. Nathan was the man she—_Audrey_—chose. "I just had mind-blowing sex with the man I love. I'm good. I'm more than good. I'm…happy." She shifted and sighed in contentment at the feel of her spent muscles.

"Don't think I'll get tired of hearing that."

He nestled against her, holding her, stroking her hair. Before long, exhaustion overtook her, and she fell asleep. Sometime later, she awoke with a start. The room was dark; Nathan's breathing was measured. Her eyes sought the alarm clock. 7:34.

"Nathan."

"Mmmm." He stirred against her.

"We fell asleep. Your dad will be here in less than thirty minutes and you need to shower and there's no food made."

"You need a shower worse than I do," he pointed out as his fingers lightly traced her inner thighs, finding the slickness on her legs from their earlier lovemaking.

She drew in a breath at his touches and turned to face him. "All I want to do is stay right here with you."

His lips brushed against hers, and then he whispered, "You'll be back later."

"Yeah."

"With an overnight bag," he declared with a small smile.

He was nothing if not persistent. Persistent—and correct.

"It's already in the car."

* * *

_To be continued…_

An extended and detailed account of Audrey and Nathan's sexytimes from this chapter can be found in Phoenix Rising Outtakes.


	33. Truth or Dare

**Author's Notes: **Happy Thanksgiving to my U.S. readers!

So…a warning. This is not a particularly happy chapter. I may be ducking objects, in fact.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-three: "Truth or Dare"**

"This was Parker's idea." Nathan's blunt greeting to his father after he opened the door to his house was crafted from years of experience. There were no 'let's talk about our feelings and sing kumbaya' moments in the Wuornos household growing up. It didn't seem that at the age of thirty-four it was going to start.

"Hello to you, too." Garland shoved a cold six-pack into Nathan's hands—not that the younger man could feel it—but the condensation on the glass bottles was a dead giveaway.

Nathan grimaced slightly. This wasn't starting well. He had promised Audrey he would make an attempt to be civil and already he was not following through. "Sorry. Come in."

Garland walked inside; he had detected the smell of grilled food wafting through the house. Somewhere along the way, Nathan learned to cook. It was unexpectedly domestic. At least the table wasn't set. "Still looks like a bachelor's home."

"What did you expect in the last three days since you were here?"

"Nothing really. Audrey's not really the lace doilies kind of woman, now is she?"

Nathan eyed his father. The old man was baiting him; Nathan didn't bite. "Grilled some chicken. I know you like it better fried, but…"

"None of this is really about what I want."

And Nathan knew it wasn't about the food; it was about being railroaded into doing something he didn't want to do.

"Right. Because having this conversation with you is so much about what I want, too."

"Nope. It's about what Audrey wants."

Garland followed Nathan into the kitchen, watching the younger man pull plates from the cupboard and silverware from the drawer.

"Smells good," Garland commented. "I take it you've become quite a cook."

"When you only have four senses, you learn to make them count."

The men filled their plates and settled at the kitchen bar. A silence settled, interrupted only by the occasional clanking of a fork.

"Your mother was a good cook," Garland finally said in an attempt to make conversation.

"You have something you want to tell me?"

"I thought maybe you had something you wanted to tell me. You and Audrey are sleeping together, right? A man doesn't let a woman lead him around by the balls otherwise."

Nathan's eyes narrowed. "She's not leading me around by the balls."

"Would you've called me on your own?"

"No."

"Audrey has a way of pushing, getting things done. So how long have you two, uh, been…?"

Nathan thought about denying it, but he couldn't form the words. Maybe it was foolish, childishly defiant, but he wanted his father to know that for all the blustering the older man had done about how Nathan needed to avoid a romantic relationship with Parker, he had jumped in head first and had no intention of cooling things. "It's recent."

"Ohio?"

"Yes."

Garland wished he could be happy for his son. Under different circumstances, he would be. Audrey was smart, beautiful, caring—everything a man would hope his son would find in a woman. Of course, Audrey wasn't like any other woman.

Going to the orphanage and digging around—that must've been a shock. Briefly, Garland wondered what ran through their minds when they saw his name on Audrey's paperwork. Falsifying documents? It hadn't been the first time and likely wouldn't be the last. "You've had a dry spell."

"I am not talking about this with you," Nathan replied pointedly.

"She's the only one you can feel. You're thinking with your pecker, not your brain. That's a dangerous position."

"No, I'm not. It isn't casual between us."

"So you're saying you love her."

"It's none of your business, but yes."

"Because you can feel her."

"No, I love her because she's Audrey!"

The climate of the room reminded Nathan of a police interrogation, the questioning more akin to baiting as though his father was testing him to see if he would slip up.

Garland took a deep breath and regarded his son with sympathetic eyes. That was not something Nathan expected

"But she's not just Audrey. She's Lucy and every other version of the woman who came before her. Nathan, she's not the woman you meet, fall in love with, and marry. She's the woman who will haunt you, who will always be out of reach. You get what I'm saying? There is no happy ending for you and her."

"Why? Because there was no happy ending for you and Lucy?"

The first salvo was fired. He had been as patient with the older man as he could for Audrey's sake, but he was at his limit.

"Never thought there would be. I had that with your mother. Thought I would anyway."

"You really never slept with Lucy?" Nathan asked, disbelief tingeing his voice.

"No. Never even kissed her."

"Does it bother you to see Audrey with me?" It was a petty question.

"Of course it does. Not…not on a…a… personal level, but you're playing a game you know nothing about. Hell, for that matter, Audrey doesn't even know the rules, but she's going to learn them."

"And you figure you know them?"

"Only know the consequences, and I don't want that for you, son."

Nathan took a drink from his bottle of beer. "I met someone today."

"Who's that?"

"Max Hansen. You have anything you want to tell me about him? Because he sure seemed to know you and mom." Nathan watched his father's reaction closely, could see the weariness there and the flashes of emotion.

"Max Hansen had a history with your mother."

"So he was a friend of hers."

"That man's not a friend to anyone," Garland scoffed with disgust. "What did he say to you?"

"Enough to make me think you lied to me."

"He's a murderer and a thief, a violent son-of-a-bitch who…" Garland took a deep breath, willing himself to control his emotions. "Let's just say he has his own agenda."

"Doesn't everyone? But even liars tell the truth sometimes."

And there it was. Garland swallowed hard. Audrey told him he should tell Nathan everything, but how could he do it? There were some truths a child—no matter how old—should not be face. And Holly's death had been horrific. There was no way to tell Nathan the truth about his mom without revealing the whole truth. Nathan was smart. He would figure it out.

Garland scrubbed a hand over his grizzled face, the weight of world bearing down on him. _Keep it together. Keep it together_. The relationship was so tenuous between them; the truth would forever break the one bond Nathan thought they had. And yet how could he not do it? Max Hansen would only poison Nathan further, and that man had already done enough damage to last a lifetime.

"So what did I lie to you about? You being the little boy Lucy saved? Sure I did, and I'd do it all over again."

"Audrey talked to you. Gave you the heads up," Nathan realized. He thought having this confirmed would fill him with some sense of vindication, maybe coupled with indignation. Instead, he felt as numb on the inside as he did on the outside as his father's words sank in.

"I did it to protect you. No child should have to live with…"

"What? Being responsible for his mother's death?" Nathan spat out. "Somehow she traded her life for my own. Is that why you've hated me all these years?" And the numbness was replaced by fury, indignation, and hurt.

"That's what you think? That I hold you responsible? That I hate you? Dammit, Nathan, I know I've not been the most sensitive of dads, but I tried to be there for you. I know I'm not good …"

Nathan stood and began to pace, his pent-up anger needing some sort of release. "I was a little boy who couldn't feel _anything_ after she died except like a freak, and you pretended I didn't exist! You were punishing me."

"I shoulda been a better father. I know that. But if you don't believe anything else I tell you, you have to believe that I never blamed you for your mother's death. I blamed myself."

"Why?" Nathan demanded.

"We argued. She thought I was having an affair with Lucy. Your mother was driving away with you. The road gave way. Cracks. She swerved to miss 'em and went over the embankment on Route 9. When I got word there had been an accident, I was beside myself. Couldn't find her. Couldn't find you. Divers found the car empty. She had pulled you out, and you weren't breathing. Hadn't been."

Nathan froze. "So what Max Hansen and Lady Cassandra said was true. The little boy died. _I_ died."

"Lucy Ripley brought you back. Don't understand how. Not even sure she understood."

"And Mom?"

"I wasn't there. Eleanor Carr called it a dry drowning. That's about the extent of it." Garland took a deep breath. "I should've told you. I just couldn't see how it would benefit you to remember something so horrific."

"You're still not telling me everything," Nathan said flatly.

Garland lifted his eyes to meet Nathan's. "The cracks. That's my…that's my Trouble. So if there's anyone to blame for your mom's death, it's me."

"_You're_ the one? You always said you didn't have a Trouble."

"I've been trying to hold it together for so long, to keep control, but sometimes my control slips."

"Like today. You were in a pissy mood over Max Hansen being back in town." Nathan shook his head. "Wish you would've said something. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out the source, and you knew that."

"I couldn't."

Nathan was about to ask why when the truth dawned on him. "Troubles run in families. Our Troubles—they aren't the same. Mom's family isn't Troubled." He watched the chief for a reaction, but the older man's blue eyes remained fixed. "Max Hansen, he squeezed my shoulder, testing me. He knew about my Trouble, knew who I was…You have something else you want to tell me?"

"You know." And the façade crumpled. The shaking in Garland Wuornos's voice was something Nathan had never heard. "You know that we aren't biologically related. Hansen was your mother's first husband. They married a couple of years out of high school."

Nathan took a step back, staggered almost. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"You were a kid. He was locked away. You were mine in every way that mattered."

"What happened between them?"

"He mistreated her. He mistreated his little boy. She left him; I helped her get back on her feet. We fell in love, and I loved—still love—her son. My son. You."

* * *

The mixture of music and the crowd gave the Gull an almost frenetic energy, which had to be good for Duke's bottom line. Audrey preferred a more sedate setting at the end of the day, she decided as she sat the bar with Julia Carr, both nursing drinks, though Julia's was non-alcoholic, and sharing a shrimp cocktail.

"It's either a brave—or foolish—woman who can tear herself away from her lover," Julia commented before popping a shrimp into her mouth.

"Nathan's with his dad right now." As it was, Audrey had nearly been late getting to the Gull. She hoped Nathan was faring better with dinner. Between their lovemaking, falling asleep, and desperately needing to shower, she didn't feel all that put together. Her hair, casually pulled up into a ponytail, was still damp from the shower spray, in fact, but her body felt both deliciously spent and craving Nathan all over again.

"I figured you two would be joined at the hip," Julia arched a brow, "or someplace else."

"Okay, you've got to stop."

"Why are you embarrassed? Sex is a part of life, a basic biological function. Really good sex, on the other hand, is not as easy to come by. Chemistry might be about pheromones, but even I can admit there's something almost magical about it."

"I'm just not a kiss-and-tell person," Audrey replied. "It's…private."

"Too bad. I so could live vicariously through you right now. In case you haven't noticed, the pickings in Haven are slim."

"They aren't _that_ slim."

"Says the woman who is still on a high from coital bliss."

Audrey was about to protest Julia's teasing when she spotted a familiar figure. He stood out from the crowd, as ever. Maybe it was his solid frame accentuated by an immaculately fitted button-up shirt. Perhaps it was his eyes. Whatever it was, he moved with a combination of authority and just enough nonchalance that he perfected the art of appearing mysterious.

Brand.

Julia followed Audrey's line of sight and smiled when she saw Ephraim. "The pickings are looking better all the time," she murmured to Audrey while lifting her glass to him as his eyes fell on the two women.

Brand approached the bar, sidling up to the brunette. "Julia. Am I right?"

"Ephraim. It's good to see you."

"Likewise." He looked at Julia's companion. "Audrey. I did not anticipate your return from Ohio so quickly."

His eyes lingered on her. She was going to have to deal with him, both as Lucy's husband and as the potential culprit for what was happening around them. But tonight—tonight this was the last thing she wanted. "I got what I needed."

At that, Julia chortled slightly before trying to mask the sound as a clearing of her throat. "So, Ephraim, are you here alone tonight?"

"Yes, I thought I would soak up the local ambience."

"The house on the hill getting lonely?"

"Something like that." He glanced at Audrey, who narrowed her eyes, before he turned his attention back to the slender brunette.

"I'm sure we can find a solution for that," Julia replied suggestively.

"Surely Mr. Brand won't be alone for too long. Last time we ran into you here, weren't you seeing someone?"

"A mild flirtation. And please, it's Ephraim. Mr. Brand was my father."

At that, Audrey rolled her eyes. He was certainly laying it on thick for Julia's benefit.

"I was hoping to encounter you, Julia," he said smoothly.

"Oh?"

"To inquire if you would be free for dinner—on another evening of your choosing, of course."

"That depends."

"On what stipulation?"

"The body count." At Ephraim's perplexed look, she added, "Poor coroner's humor. Yes, I would enjoy that very much. Hopefully, the…issues…in town won't interfere." Her phone began to ring. "Speaking of interference, what timing. I'm on call doing a favor for an OB-Gyn friend of mine who had an emergency appendectomy. I have to take this."

"By all means."

Julia took her phone and moved out to the deck, leaving Audrey and Brand alone.

"What the hell are you doing?" Audrey demanded of Ephraim.

He leaned against the bar, his body very close to hers. "Moving on with my life, as are you, I trust."

Blue eyes met green ones. "You need to leave my friend alone."

His amusement was a direct contrast to her seriousness. "It would be rude to rescind my invitation. Besides, you have assured me you are not Lucy, so I have no obligations to you or any other woman."

"You're trying to manipulate me."

"Manipulate you? To what end?"

Audrey clammed up. To what end, indeed? To get a reaction out of her? Well, she had certainly given him that. To propel her to offer herself in Julia's stead? Not going to happen.

"You've had an agenda from the first moment I saw you."

"And you like it."

Audrey opened her mouth to respond when she saw Julia returning.

"I've got to go. Mrs. Bellmeyer is having contractions." She slipped a card from her small clutch and handed it to Ephraim. "I look forward to hearing from you."

"And I look forward to our next encounter," Ephraim replied graciously before tucking the card into his pants pocket.

"We'll catch up later, Audrey," Julia promised.

"Sure thing." But Audrey felt uneasy with what had transpired in the last few minutes.

Ephraim watched Julia leave and mused, "As a medical examiner, what training does Dr. Carr have in the delivery of infants?"

"She spent two years in Darfur with Doctors Without Borders. She has training in just about everything—except dealing with you." At that, Audrey reached into his pocket and retrieved the small business card of Julia's before securing it in one of the cups of her brassiere.

"You are brazen." His accented voice held a tinge of admiration mingled with amusement.

"She's my friend."

"You are fortunate I'm a gentleman, or else I would take similar measures to reclaim what you've purloined. However, I don't require Julia's card to locate her, so your efforts are for naught."

"What do you want with her?"

"Why would I not want to acquaint myself with her further? She is attractive and intelligent. I wish to have someone to be my equal in every way; you are aware of this."

"I'm actually glad we ran into one another."

"Now look who is changing her tune."

"Saved me the hassle of tracking you down. I saw something interesting today, some cracks out at Wapék Park."

"We've both seen those before. It's the result of the sandstone in this area, as I recall, shifting."

"These cracks were filled with blood." She watched for a reaction from him but got nothing. "What's going on around here?"

But his features remained impassive. "You're the detective. Detect."

"You could help a girl out and be cooperative. Tell me what you know."

"Where's the fun in that?" he replied.

"What do you want?"

"You."

"You can't have me. Next?"

At that, Ephraim raised an eyebrow. "One time, Lucy and I found ourselves in a rather seedy bar in rural Massachusetts. She was determined to play billiards, and I was so certain the local clientele…"

"…would try to rob us," Audrey finished. She shook her head slightly, "Rob you and Lucy."

"You remember."

Audrey exhaled. "Not really. I'm not sure where that came from."

"I am. It's a fond memory. I bought out the bar for night, and we had the place all to ourselves."

"Do you still play?"

"On occasion. I never enjoyed it with the same enthusiasm as you, but I was fairly capable."

"Capable enough to wager?"

A smile curled on his lips. "What are your terms?"

"If I win, let's say…Eight Ball, you leave Julia Carr alone and answer some questions for me. No bullcrap."

"And if I win…"

"You won't," Audrey asserted.

"Correction, _when_ I win, you will provide me with twenty-four uninterrupted hours of your time."

"I have a job."

"And a _partner_ to whom you are very close, yes? You just spent twenty-four uninterrupted hours with him. I require the same consideration."

"Back to blackmail, Ephraim?"

"You always have a choice, Audrey. Choose to take your chances or don't, though I suspect that the prospect of spending time with me is not as excruciating as you feign."

His challenge hung in the air. Finally, she replied, "Let's do this."

The two walked to the Gull's pool table and briefly observed in silence, waiting for the players before them to finish. After Brand flashed them a twenty, the two shrugged, took the money, and went to the bar for drinks.

Audrey set up the balls in the wooden triangle, placing the eight ball in the center, while Brand selected a pool stick and applied chalk to the tip. She then joined him in selecting a stick.

"Would you like to break?" she asked.

"I will defer to you."

She leaned forward, stretching her body to maneuver the pool stick to strike the cue ball. Ephraim's eyes appraised her as her loose navy blue shirt moved from her body, allowing him a glimpse of her undergarments. "Red lingerie? You are a delicious enigma, Audrey Parker."

She struck the cue ball, sending it into the other balls, breaking the formation.

"Eyes up, Mr. Brand. What I'm wearing is none of your concern." She tapped the cue ball lightly, propelling it into the two-ball, which dutifully went into the corner pocket.

She moved around the table, brushing past him to reposition herself in an attempt to pocket the four-ball.

"Mmmm. I've seen you in far less."

His words jarred her, breaking her concentration, and the cue ball went awry.

"That was Lucy. You and I haven't slept together," Audrey reminded him.

"Yet," he whispered in her ear as he moved to her right, his fingers grazing the skin on her side as he positioned himself to go after the twelve ball. He easily sank it in the side pocket. He moved behind her and murmured so that only she heard, "I took you that night on the pool table in that bar."

"Stop."

"You don't want me to stop. You want to remember because it was always so good between us, the pleasure we would give each other. I will be inside of you again. You will welcome me."

She stopped him as he began to move past around the table. "We won't. _Ever._ I'm not Lucy. Not anymore."

"You are more of Lucy than you realize. Right now, you stand there, indignantly lifting your chin, but there is a part of you who perceives the pull you feel to me. It has always been there. It will always be there, regardless of the childish games we play."

"I'm done with this game." At that, Audrey shoved her pool stick into Ephraim's hand.

"Because I always win."

With his free hand, he traced the contours of her face, and she couldn't move, could barely breathe. The atmosphere around them changed, swirling almost, and then they were in another time, another bar. This one was quiet except for the jukebox in the corner and the sound of their greedy kisses. He lifted her on the pool table, and she almost laughed as the felt of the table rubbed her elbows. If she got rug burn from a pool table, what a tale that would be! Rational thought quickly left her as he pushed her dress up and pulled her legs around his waist, even as the pool balls scattered around them. "Yes," she whispered against his lips. An intense rhythm built within them as they joined, until she felt like she was rising on a tidal wave only to come undone. The contracting of her muscles found her stifling a cry of pleasure as the waves broke.

And the atmosphere swirled again, the sound of the crowd drowning out her labored breaths as Ephraim stared at her, a look of immense satisfaction on his face. They were fully clothed, but she could feel the pleasure echoing from her memory, as contradictory feelings warred within her. _She loved him_. She hated him. _She wanted him_. She wanted to get away from him.

His hand was still pressed against her face.

"What did you do to me?" she whispered, queasiness quickly replacing the gratification her body felt just seconds ago as Lucy's memory faded. Her face burned with shame. _Nathan._

"You wanted a memory. I gave you one." Noting her flushed features, he added, "More than a memory, I suspect."

"I didn't want that."

"Yes, you did. You chose the memory. Some part of you wants to remember us, chooses to remember us, our love, our connection."

She shook her head. _No._ She didn't love Ephraim. She loved Nathan. Good, decent, beautiful inside and out, Nathan was the one who made her heart race, made her yearn. Nathan was the one she wanted to make memories with, not Brand. "I don't love you. I will never love you."

"You will. You always come back to me."

"No!" Without conscious thought, her hand went to the back of his neck and dipped under the collar of his shirt, finding its way to the raised scar branded onto his back so long ago. Palm outstretched, she pressed against the scar, which seemed to practically flare with heat.

He hissed in pain and stepped back from her, breaking their contact.

Her eyes widened, partly from the realization she had caused him pain and partly from the sensation of power surging through her.

It was intoxicating.

Ephraim half-grinned/half-grimaced as he studied her. "There you are."

* * *

to be continued...


End file.
